Yuto was six now, and with each passing year, he felt more attuned to this new life. The once-clumsy, awkward boy had grown into a slightly less clumsy and awkward boy, though he still struggled to navigate the social world around him.
Akari had recently begun preparing him for something called "the academy." She spoke of it with both excitement and seriousness, describing it as a place where young children trained to become shinobi. Yuto tried not to show how nervous that made him.
It was an early morning when Akari dragged him out for their usual training session. The summer sun bathed the village in warm light, and the streets were already bustling with activity.
"Yuto-chan, today we'll focus on your coordination!" Akari announced cheerfully as they stepped into the bustling market square.
"Coordination? You make it sound like I'm preparing for the Olympics," Yuto muttered under his breath, earning a chuckle from his mother.
As they walked through the village, Yuto couldn't help but notice the diversity of people. Some wore simple clothes, carrying baskets of vegetables or tools. Others were dressed in those strange flak jackets he had seen Akari wear. Their foreheads bore headbands with a peculiar symbol: a spiral leaf.
"Mom?" Yuto asked tentatively, his gaze fixed on the symbol. "What's that thing everyone wears on their head?"
"Oh, the headband?" Akari said, smiling. "That's a forehead protector. It's a symbol of Konohagakure."
"Konohagakure?" The word felt foreign on his tongue.
Akari nodded, crouching to meet his eyes. "That's the name of our village. It means Village Hidden in the Leaves."
Yuto blinked. "Wait, we live in a hidden village? Doesn't that defeat the point if everyone knows where it is?"
Akari laughed, ruffling his hair. "It's not about hiding the village, silly. It's about staying strong and protecting it. The name reflects our history."
"History, huh?" Yuto glanced around, suddenly seeing the village in a new light. The cobblestone streets, the towering Hokage Monument carved into the mountain, the people bustling about their daily lives—it all felt more significant now.
That afternoon, Akari left him to run errands, giving him some rare free time to explore. Yuto wandered through the streets, his small stature allowing him to slip through the crowds unnoticed.
He eventually stumbled upon a group of children playing near a small pond. They were skipping stones, their laughter echoing in the air.
Yuto hesitated. Socializing wasn't exactly his strong suit. In his previous life, he had been the guy who awkwardly avoided office parties and dreaded small talk. But something about the carefree joy of these children drew him in.
"Hey, you!" one of the boys called out, noticing him. "Wanna join us?"
Yuto blinked, pointing at himself. "Me?"
"Yeah, you! Come on!"
Awkwardly, Yuto shuffled over, feeling out of place among the lively group. One of the boys handed him a flat stone.
"Just throw it like this," the boy demonstrated, flicking his wrist. The stone skipped gracefully across the water.
Yuto mimicked the motion, but his stone plopped into the pond without skipping once.
The children burst into laughter, and Yuto felt his face heat up.
"Don't worry," a girl said kindly. "You'll get better!"
Despite the embarrassment, Yuto found himself smiling. There was something refreshing about their simplicity. No judgment, no pressure—just kids being kids.
But as the game went on, Yuto couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. He laughed along with them, but the connection wasn't there. These were children in the truest sense of the word—innocent, carefree, and open.
He wasn't.
No matter how much time passed, he was still a grown man inside. There were things he just couldn't relate to, no matter how much he wanted to.
Later that evening, as Yuto sat at the dinner table with Akari and his grandmother, he decided to bring up something that had been on his mind.
"So… this academy," he began cautiously. "What's it like?"
Akari set down her chopsticks, her eyes lighting up. "Oh, Yuto-chan, it's wonderful! You'll learn all kinds of things—how to use chakra, basic jutsus, teamwork…"
Yuto frowned. "But what if I'm not… good at it?"
His grandmother, a spry woman despite her age, chuckled softly. "Every shinobi starts somewhere, my dear. Even your mother was a little rascal when she started."
"Grandma!" Akari protested, though her cheeks turned red.
Yuto smiled at their banter, feeling a warmth he couldn't quite explain.
That night, as he lay in bed, Yuto stared at the wooden beams of the ceiling.
He felt something new—a flicker of excitement in his chest. The academy, chakra, jutsus… It all felt unreal yet thrilling.
The idea of learning these skills, of mastering something so beyond his past life's mundane routine, was exhilarating. Even if he didn't fully understand this world or its customs yet, he was curious to see where it would take him.
But there was another side to it. As much as he enjoyed interacting with the villagers or the children by the pond, there was always a distance. He wasn't really one of them.
After all, how could a 38-year-old man truly connect with a group of carefree kids?
Still, this life, with all its quirks and mysteries, felt like an adventure waiting to unfold.