Aiko was filled with determination. She understood that amongst everyone she associated with, only Murakami could be said to truly see her. She doesn't know how but she just felt it.
He was unlike the other kids who accepted her as she projected at them.
He was her age but gave the impression of an adult, a reliable adult. The same she felt with her father, although her memories of him were faint.
Coming to Murakami with her problem the night before was a leap of faith. She didn't really know how Murakami regarded her but she felt that at least, she was his friend.
As it happened, Murakami wasn't averse to helping her out and she didn't want to disappoint him so she made sure she was awake when Murakami came out.
They exchanged greetings and she watched him move with quiet focus despite the early hours of the morning.
It was uncharacteristic of a kid her age which increased her respect for him.
Aiko's eyes widened as Murakami stepped onto the pond, moving across the water as if it were solid ground.
Her heart raced with a mix of awe and disbelief rooting her to the spot.
She couldn't explain it, but she couldn't look away either.
Even as he activated the seals on her arms and legs, she could only feel awe and admiration at his ability to do that.
When she was done with her exercise she felt like death was looming over her, but remembering Murakami's calm certainty that this will make her strong, she clenched her teeth and persisted.
When she finally caught her breath and looked up, she saw Murakami looking down at her with his breath slightly uneven.
It didn't feel like he exerted himself at all.
And that was considering the fact that he was under a weight thrice hers. The calmness in his eyes…she didn't have the intention of making it turn into disappointment.
So she persisted. Murakami was helping her and she knew it. Complaining at this juncture would only make him lose whatever expectation he has of her.
As expected, when she was finally out of breath and knew she couldn't go any more, Murakami provided a bottle of pills that renewed her energy.
When she recovered enough, Murakami immediately moved into taijutsu.
Her eyes followed Murakami as he moved, the way his body seemed to flow from one position to another.
Every step, every turn, every strike was precise. Her heart thumped in time with his movements, her mind straining to remember every detail.
When she tried to mimic the movement with her own body, she truly came to understand how difficult such simple and leisure movements were.
With her body still sore from the earlier exercise, she came to realise what it took to squeeze the muscles to exert strength.
To push through the soreness, she felt immense pain, but didn't let it show.
Murakami must've felt something worse than this to reach this level of control and coordination.
The way his movement flowed from one kata to the next spoke of mastery cultivated through repetition and persistence.
Even the simplest motions, the way he angled a foot or rotated a wrist, felt like a lesson.
She tried moving like that, one controlled step at a time.
Her arms and legs trembled under the seals, but she refused to look away.
Her resolve was hardened. If Murakami could make his body do this, she could learn too.
By the time he finished the twenty-seven movements the second time, she was sweating and breathing hard, but her eyes were bright, her chest tight with effort and determination.
She wanted to move, to copy, to understand. She wanted to be able to carry herself like that, calm and precise, even under weight.
She looked at him, trying to measure how far away she was from that level, and silently promised herself she would reach it.
Her small hands clenched. She wasn't going to let the weight, struggle, or the difficulty stop her.
Not today. Not ever.
The morning sun reflected off the lake, but all she saw was Murakami standing like a straight , unshakable pillar.
"How do you feel?"
Aiko blinked, pulled abruptly out of her reverie.
"Huh?" she mumbled, eyes wide.
Murakami's gaze turned toward her. It still retained its calm, the kind that didn't ask twice.
Aiko swallowed, her chest rising and falling from the exertion.
She forced her thoughts together, trying to put into words what she was feeling.
The soreness in her muscles, the ache in her limbs, the tightness in her chest, but beneath it all, there was something else.
A spark.
Strength. Potential. A recognition that, despite the trembling in her arms and legs, she had endured, learned, and witnessed something far beyond what she had imagined.
"I… I'm… okay," she said finally, voice a little shaky, but firm. "Tired, but… good."
Murakami smiled ever so slightly and she managed to catch sight of it.
"We're returning then." He said and walked towards the lake and calmly removed his clothes leaving only his underpants and plunged into it, a few seconds later he surfaced and walked out.
He then walked toward the tree and placed his hand on it and made a hand sign as a neatly folded cloth appeared which he caught.
"Go wash yourself and change into this." He said as he walked up to aiko and passed her the cloth.
"Uh…" Aiko's face flushed red as she received the cloth but remained standing. "Y-you can't peek, you hear me?"
Murakami raised an eyebrow as though wondering: You're a kid, what's there to look at?
Without giving her a reply, he walked back to the tree and repeated the same thing and swiftly put on the haori.
…
Aiko adjusted the haori around her shoulders as they walked back to the orphanage, the morning sun warming her skin but doing little to ease the ache in her muscles.
She matched her steps to Murakami's, still carrying the weight of both the seals on her body.
Murakami glanced at her, his expression neutral. "What kind of shinobi do you want to be?"
Shinobi were classified into various classes of specialisation. Ninjutsu, Taijutsu, Fuinjutsu, Iryojutsu, Sensory, Bukijutsu and others.
A human only had so much time in a day which is why it was counterproductive to pursue more than class to specialise in.
Murakami understood this more than most due to how he struggled to include his various training into a single day.
Aiko's brow furrowed as she considered the question.
She had thought about it before, but saying it aloud felt different. "I… I want to be strong. Someone who can protect people… and help them."
He nodded slowly. She didn't have any particular class in mind which was good because he had the perfect class for her.
"Strength isn't only shown in fighting. Understanding your body, your limits… knowing how to heal yourself and others… that's power too."
Aiko's eyes widened slightly. "You mean… I should study to become a medical-nin?"
"That would be wise," Murakami said, his tone calm.
"Learning the human body inside and out will improve your lethality in a fight. You'll understand how to enhance your body, push past natural limits… recover faster. You'll know what works and what doesn't."
She studied him carefully, catching the subtle inflection in his words.
"Are you… trying to use me?" she asked softly, suspicion flickering across her features.
Murakami didn't answer directly and allowed the silence to let her draw whatever conclusions she wished.
Then he continued, "If I had time, I'd study the same field. But fuinjutsu presents a more strategic need for me right now. Still… the knowledge will make you more capable. Stronger. Safer."
"It will also increase your survivability." He said and cast a side glance which she caught.
Murakami wasn't worried about what she thought. She was a kid, and suggestions went a long way, especially when planted would grow and take shape in her.
If she accepted the path, good, if she didn't, she would eventually come around on her own. Either way, he had nudged the wheel just enough for it to start turning.
And as expected, Aiko's mind turned over his words as they walked.
She didn't press further, but a spark of understanding lit in her eyes.
She realized Murakami wasn't merely giving advice, he was shaping her path, guiding her toward a skill set that could make her exceptional.
Murakami said it earlier. Only those who survive are strong.
Her fists tightened slightly beneath the haori. She would follow his guidance, and she would not fail.
Strength and survival.
The words echoed inside her as they approached the orphanage, carrying the weight of new purpose.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
A/N If you're reading this, I truly hope you're enjoying it so far. If you are, write a thing or two on the comment section to let me know your thoughts on the chapter and fanfic so far
I also appreciate suggestions. They would go a long way in helping to shape this book.