The hot desert winds brushed against the walls of Sunagakure, carrying with them the hum of daily life. Hiroshi sat in his small, cluttered workspace, fiddling with a fuel container prototype. His focus was sharp, his hands steady, but his thoughts were scattered.
The fuel project was progressing steadily, and Rengoku was taking shape. Yet, something was nagging at him—a growing realization that his ambitions couldn't exist in isolation.
---
As he tightened the lid of his makeshift container, Hiroshi leaned back with a sigh.
"No matter how efficient my puppet is, no matter how innovative my designs are, there's a limit to how far I can go if the village doesn't grow with me."
He thought back to his conversation with Nakamura-sensei, who had stressed the importance of contributing to the community.
"The stronger Sunagakure becomes, the easier it will be to pursue my goals. A weak village means fewer resources, fewer opportunities, and fewer people to support new ideas."
His analytical mind kicked in, and he began tracing the root of the issue: the village's struggling economy.
---
Hiroshi opened his notebook, sketching a rough diagram.
"In my previous life, companies thrived because there was a market for their products. People had money to spend. But here..."
He paused, recalling the poverty-stricken faces he'd seen during his walks through the market.
"If people are barely surviving, they won't buy anything they don't absolutely need. And if no one buys, how can a business succeed?"
The realization deepened his resolve. "The economy of the Land of Wind is fragile. If I want to make an impact, I need to solve problems that strengthen the village and its people."
---
His thoughts drifted back to the fuel he'd been developing. While essential for Rengoku, it wouldn't solve any larger problem for the village. The same applied to the puppet itself—it was a personal project, not something that would immediately benefit Sunagakure.
"I've been thinking too small. If I want my work to matter, I need to look beyond myself."
With that, Hiroshi flipped to a fresh page in his notebook and began listing the issues plaguing the village and the Land of Wind.
---
The first problem that came to mind was water.
"Water scarcity has always been the biggest challenge here. If I can create a purifier that works with the resources we have, it could help the entire village."
Next was food production. The harsh desert climate made farming nearly impossible, leaving the village dependent on costly imports.
"If I can make tools that improve farming, even in this environment, it could reduce our dependence on other nations."
Energy was another concern. Nights in the desert were long and dark, limiting productivity after sundown.
"Solar-powered lamps... They'd be cheap to make and perfect for this climate."
Finally, he thought about the sandstorms.
"Compact barriers could protect trade routes and farmland. Traders wouldn't lose goods, and farmers could grow crops more reliably."
---
Hiroshi tapped his pencil against the page, thinking hard.
"I can't solve everything at once, but if I focus on one project at a time, I can build momentum."
The water purifier seemed the most urgent. It was practical, achievable with the resources at hand, and could immediately improve lives.
"Once people see the results, they'll trust me. That trust will give me the support I need to take on bigger projects."
---
The decision left Hiroshi feeling both determined and nervous.
"If I succeed, this could change everything—not just for the village, but for me."
His thoughts briefly wandered to the day he'd one day open his own company. A place where he could fund his experiments, develop cutting-edge technology, and leave a lasting legacy. But for now, he had to start small.
"Strong foundations first. Then I'll build something truly extraordinary."
With a deep breath, Hiroshi returned to his sketches, ready to draft the first design for his water purifier.
Hiroshi sat at the worktable in Nakamura's workshop, the faint scent of oil and wood lingering in the air. The tools and scraps scattered around him seemed to echo his own jumbled thoughts. His blueprint was still unfinished, a rough outline of an idea waiting for clarity. He tapped his pencil against the paper, deep in thought.
"What kind of water purifier would make the most sense for Sunagakure?" he muttered to himself. The desert climate posed unique challenges, but it also offered opportunities. The constant sunlight, for instance, was an untapped resource.
He considered a simple sand and charcoal filter first. "It's basic but effective," he thought. Such filters could remove sediments and some impurities, making brackish water drinkable. However, they wouldn't solve the problem of harmful bacteria or the salt content in some water sources.
His thoughts drifted to a solar still, a device that could purify water by evaporating it with sunlight and condensing the vapor into clean water. "That's definitely feasible," he mused, sketching a small design on the corner of his paper. "It doesn't need much maintenance and uses what the desert has plenty of—sunlight." But solar stills had their own limitation: they were slow and couldn't handle large volumes of water.
Hiroshi sighed, erasing another line from his blueprint. His engineer's mind kept pulling him toward something more advanced. A solar-powered reverse osmosis system could purify even the saltiest water, and its efficiency would scale with better technology. "That would be the ultimate solution," he whispered, "but it's not realistic right now." The materials and energy requirements were far beyond what he could manage with his current resources.
With a determined nod, he decided to combine the practicality of a sand and charcoal filter with the efficiency of a solar still. It wouldn't solve every problem, but it was a step in the right direction—simple to build, easy to use, and effective for the village's immediate needs.
---
For hours, Hiroshi hunched over the table, sketching and re-sketching his design. Lines blurred together as his pencil danced across the page, erasing here and redrawing there. At one point, he crumpled up an entire sheet of paper and tossed it aside, groaning in frustration.
"This has to be affordable," he reminded himself. "If it's too expensive, no one will buy it. What's the point of helping people if they can't afford the help?"
Eventually, the design started to take shape. The purifier would have multiple layers: a sand and charcoal filter for pre-cleaning, a glass dome to act as a solar still, and a collection basin for the purified water. It was elegant in its simplicity, and most importantly, it could be built using materials readily available in the village.
Hiroshi leaned back in his chair, letting out a long sigh. The blueprint was finished. He grinned, proud of what he had accomplished. "This will work," he said, holding the paper up to the light.
---
As Hiroshi walked toward Nakamura, who was tinkering with a small machine in the corner of the workshop, he held the blueprint like a prized treasure.
"Sensei," Hiroshi called, placing the design on the workbench in front of Nakamura. "Take a look at this."
Nakamura wiped his hands with a cloth and leaned over the paper. His eyes scanned the detailed drawing, his expression shifting from curiosity to surprise.
"Hiroshi, this… this is impressive," Nakamura said, straightening up. "What exactly are you planning to do with it?"
Hiroshi crossed his arms, a confident smirk on his face. "We'll make it and sell it. And I want 60% of the profit."
Nakamura blinked, momentarily stunned by the bold demand. Then he burst out laughing, his deep voice echoing through the workshop. "Sixty percent? You're six years old! What are you going to do with 60% of the profit? Buy candy?"
Hiroshi frowned, annoyed by the reaction. "No, Sensei. I'm going to start a company."
The laughter stopped. Nakamura stared at Hiroshi, his brow furrowed in confusion. "A company? What kind of company?"
"A company that sells my inventions," Hiroshi explained, his tone serious. "I need money for my experiments, and starting a business is the best way to fund them. But a company won't succeed if the village is struggling, so I need to help the village first. This purifier will make life easier for people and build trust in my ideas."
Nakamura was silent for a moment, then shook his head with a chuckle. "You're an odd one, Hiroshi. Most kids your age don't think beyond their next meal, and here you are planning to rebuild the village's economy. It's… admirable, in a strange way."
---
Nakamura picked up the blueprint again, studying it closely. After a few minutes, he nodded approvingly. "The design is solid, but there are a few things you should consider. Getting enough glass and metal might be tricky, and you'll need to convince people to try something new."
Hiroshi nodded, taking mental notes. "I thought about that. That's why I kept the design simple—to make it easier to produce and more affordable."
"Good thinking," Nakamura said, setting the paper down. "Leave the production logistics to me. I'll help you get this off the ground. It's the least I can do for my disciple."
Hiroshi smiled, grateful for his mentor's support. "Thanks, Sensei."
After leaving Nakamura's workshop, Hiroshi returned home with a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. The water purifier project had been a success—at least in theory. Now, with the blueprint finalized and Nakamura's help secured, he could focus on his original goal: building Rengoku.
He cleared his worktable of the purifier sketches, carefully stacking them to one side, and brought out the notes and prototypes for his puppet. The challenge at hand was the fireproof coating. While he had made progress, his previous tests had shown that the material couldn't withstand the intense heat of higher-ranked fire jutsu. It was effective against low- to mid-level flames but would crumble under repeated assaults. For Rengoku to be a true combat puppet, this wouldn't do.
Hiroshi leaned back in his chair, staring at his notes. His earlier attempts had involved using a ceramic-based material, inspired by heat shields used in his previous world. Ceramics were excellent insulators and could resist high temperatures, but they were brittle and prone to cracking under stress. To counter this, he had mixed the ceramic with a resin-based binder, which added flexibility but reduced the heat resistance slightly.
"It's close," he muttered, drumming his fingers on the table. "But not enough."
He began to think back to materials from his past life. Fireproof coatings often used compounds like intumescent paints—materials that expanded and charred when exposed to heat, forming a protective barrier. The idea intrigued him. If he could combine the char-forming properties of intumescent materials with the heat resistance of ceramics, he might achieve the durability he needed.
Pulling out his notes, Hiroshi sketched a new formula. He would use a ceramic base for heat resistance, add a resin binder for flexibility, and incorporate a layer of intumescent coating to create an additional barrier when exposed to extreme heat. For the final touch, he decided to mix in fine particles of mica, a mineral known for its natural fireproofing properties and ability to reflect heat.
With the formula in mind, Hiroshi set to work. Mixing the components wasn't easy; the resin needed to be evenly distributed, and the ceramic powder clumped together if not handled carefully. After hours of trial and error, he managed to create a smooth, paste-like coating. Testing it was the next step.
---
In his backyard, Hiroshi set up a small test station. He applied the new coating to a metal plate and let it cure under the scorching Sunagakure sun. Once it hardened, he held up the plate, admiring the matte, slightly textured finish.
"Let's see what you can do," he murmured, grabbing a small torch he had crafted earlier.
Lighting the torch, he directed the flame at the coated plate. The surface glowed faintly, but the coating held firm. After a minute, Hiroshi extinguished the flame and touched the uncoated side of the plate. It was warm but not scalding.
Encouraged, he tested it against higher heat levels, increasing the intensity each time. The coating performed admirably, charring slightly under extreme conditions but never failing completely. By the end of his tests, Hiroshi was confident. This material could withstand B-rank fire jutsu indefinitely and even endure A-rank attacks multiple times before wearing down.
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. "Finally," he whispered.
---
Later that evening, Hiroshi sat at his desk, reviewing his progress. The fireproof coating had been the last major hurdle. With the fuel system, fireproofing, and puppet foundation all complete, he now had everything he needed to begin constructing Rengoku.
He held up a fresh sheet of paper and began drafting the final blueprint for his puppet. The name Rengoku felt more fitting than ever—a blazing inferno that could withstand even the harshest flames.
As he worked, the excitement in his chest grew. This wasn't just a puppet; it was a culmination of his skills, knowledge, and ambition. It was his first step toward proving himself in this new world, toward creating something extraordinary.
With a determined glint in his eyes, Hiroshi put down his pencil and leaned back in his chair. "Now," he said softly to himself, "it's time to bring Rengoku to life."