A boy ran through the empty streets of the village, his feet kicking up small clouds of dust. Each step reminded him of his weak body, a child's frame not yet suited for the challenges he faced. It didn't matter—he had no choice but to adapt.
No shinobi had come, no villagers remained, and the world around him offered nothing but silence. He had to make a plan, and fast. Food was limited; his scavenged supplies would barely last a week. Shelter was sorted for now, but his mind was already calculating the steps he'd need to take to survive.
The cracked mirror in the house had revealed a boy of seven, maybe eight—far too young to join any ninja academy even if he could find it. Worse, his chakra wasn't unlocked yet, leaving him with only one option: to rely on his bending abilities.
The problem was that bending, despite the flood of knowledge he now had, wasn't as simple as moving his arms and willing the elements to obey. It required precision, focus, and practice.
After running a few more laps through the village to build stamina, he headed toward the outskirts, where the ruins gave way to a small, open clearing.
He stopped to catch his breath, his eyes scanning the area. The air was quiet, still, and private enough for what he needed. Dropping his scavenged pack near a tree, he stood tall and adjusted his stance, recalling the movements burned into his mind.
Water would come first. He took a deep breath and positioned his feet, his arms moving in smooth, circular motions. Waterbending was about flow, about feeling the rhythm of the world around you. He reached out, focusing on the stagnant puddle nearby, his mind willing it to respond.
For several moments, nothing happened. He closed his eyes, steadying his breath. Then, a faint sensation flickered at the edge of his awareness—something fluid, something alive. His arms continued their deliberate movements, and the puddle trembled. It wasn't much, just a ripple across the surface, but it was enough to make him pause.
It vanished almost as quickly as it came. He let out a frustrated sigh, his arms falling to his sides.
Waterbending wasn't going to come easily. He could feel the potential, but it was distant, like trying to grasp smoke with his hands.
Shifting gears, he turned to earthbending. The knowledge in his mind told him that earth was different from water. Where water required flow and adaptability, earth demanded strength, stability, and confidence.
He adjusted his stance, planting his feet wide and firm. His fists clenched at his sides, and he let the weight of his body settle into the ground. Stomping forward, he felt a faint shift beneath his feet, the earth almost acknowledging his presence.
Encouraged, he tried again, this time with a deliberate strike. His hand extended, and the dirt before him cracked, a small crack forming in the ground.
A grin tugged at his lips. It wasn't much, but it was progress. For the next few hours, he alternated between the two elements, practicing the basic forms over and over. Water remained elusive, the connection fleeting and scarce, while earth showed more promise. Each stomp, punch, and grounded stance brought small, incremental progress, and by the time he stopped, he could sense the earth responding more readily.
When he finally returned to his shelter, his body was sore, his muscles burning from exertion. Sitting down on the floor, he rummaged through his supplies and ate a small portion of food, keeping the rest carefully rationed.
As he stared at the dimly lit room, he thought back to the events of the day. Bending would take time, but he could feel himself growing stronger, even if only slightly.
Looking at the cracked mirror again, he studied his reflection. The face staring back was unfamiliar, a young boy lost in a foreign world. His old name felt distant, out of place here. This was a second life, one that demanded something new.
"Kōmei Yomi," he said quietly to himself. The words felt right. A name for the person he was becoming.
With that, he lay down to rest, kunai within reach, and let exhaustion carry him into a deep sleep.