Naruto: The Great Virtue
As I slowly opened my eyes, I noticed the first rays of sunlight streaming into the room where I and other children rested. I stretched vigorously, causing my little body to tremble under the blankets. I let out a sleepy sound, a drawn-out yawn that escaped my lips as I lazily waved my hand. "Uhhhh..."
Once the sound subsided, I felt at ease to begin my morning routine. I surveyed the environment around me, the identical beds to mine, all arranged in close proximity, occupied by other children, all of them around my age. It was a scene I knew all too well, part of my daily life, where we shared a common background, orphanhood.
Not that it truly bothered me, but who wouldn't long for parents? Even for me, who had reincarnated in this peculiar world, the idea of having a stable and consistent family structure didn't sound bad. Perhaps it could ensure a more stable and consistent upbringing.
Without a second thought, I began tidying up my bed in silence, as I always did, to avoid any possible reprimands from the orphanage matron. When I finished, I headed towards the rows of beds until I reached the exit of the boys' dormitory of the orphanage. However, before leaving, I cast a furtive glance at the closet that had previously been used as a utility room. Not surprisingly, I sensed a sinister aura of hatred emanating from it.
'They've put him back in there,' I thought internally, recalling the boy with yellow hair, blue eyes, and fox-like marks on his cheeks.
The discomfort caused by that aura was undeniable, and I bid farewell to the room, heading to the boys' bathroom while contemplating the unwelcome presence of the aura. Despite being an adult in a child's body, I felt a certain fear, not of the boy with fox-like features, but of the aura that occasionally emanated from him.
This aura was related to the individual who had murdered my parents shortly after my birth. Reincarnating in this fictional world by the hand of a God, with no prior knowledge, was a shock that confronted me with a deeply traumatizing scene. Even at the tender age I was at the time, I could glimpse a fragment of what happened on that fateful day. The images were blurry, but the destruction, the carnage, and the metallic smell of blood still haunted my memory.
For a moment, I was a baby born into an apparently loving family, and the next, an orphan. The cause of all this? A gigantic nine-tailed fox with a deafening scream. Being a helpless baby at the time, there was nothing I could do. Fortunately, I survived thanks to the joint efforts of my parents and their co-workers, individuals who defied gravity's laws in their attempts to protect me and other innocents.
God had not spared words warning about the danger of this world and the need to fight relentlessly to survive. However, it was no longer time to dwell on that terrible moment. My focus now was on the future, and my first goal was to become one of those extravagant ninjas with unusual abilities.
Upon arriving at the boys' bathroom, I gave myself a brief look in the mirror. There, a six-year-old boy with brown hair and eyes and fair skin gazed back at me. My clothing could be summed up in one word: "ordinary". Being an orphan, I never had the means to buy a variety of clothes. Basically, all of us at the orphanage were given four identical sets that were periodically washed by the caretaker or ourselves, depending on our situation in the orphanage.
Thanks to my wit, I had learned from an early age to discern who to please and who to avoid. My only daily duty was to keep my bed tidy and take care of my personal hygiene. This gave me additional time to practice physical activities or play with the other children, at least to appear "normal."
As I roamed the hallways for about ten minutes, I bumped into the caretaker in one of the corridors, who greeted me warmly. "Kenshi, up early as always," said the orphanage matron.
"I try to stay in shape, Miss Kiyoko. After all, this year I plan to officially enroll in the ninja academy," I replied with familiarity and respect.
"In fact, I've already spoken personally with the Hokage about it, and they've accepted your enrollment in the ninja academy. Now, it's just a matter of time before you start your studies and become a powerful ninja to defend our village," she said casually, which was of utmost importance to me.
Unfortunately, as an orphan, I had no ninja training, except for the basics like reading, writing, and some knowledge of chakra, the energy we all possessed. I had only heard of chakra through stories and tales of past heroes, but I felt that the matron kept relevant information about it hidden from us. As a cautious and determined individual, I had always shown interest in chakra and its applications. After some research on my own, I learned about the history of ninjas and the use of chakra to perform jutsus.
Given my reincarnation, how could I stay out of this? Despite my initial unsuccessful attempts, my hope was in the public education provided by the village, namely the Ninja Academy. 'Finally! I can't wait to perform some powerful jutsus,' I thought eagerly. For someone coming from a normal world, these fantastical situations had a unique flavor.
"Thank you so much, Miss Kiyoko, for all your efforts in helping me," I thanked the matron respectfully, who, despite her flaws and questionable opinions, had done a lot for me.
"You don't need to thank me, Kenshi. Just remember to defend our village with the Will of Fire" she said, emphasizing the phrase. Those words intrigued me.
'Will of Fire? What did she mean by that?' I asked myself, not fully understanding.
"Miss Kiyoko, I need to go for training... if you'll allow me," I tried to change the subject, knowing that procrastinating wouldn't help me.
She coughed lightly, exhaling a strong odor of smoke, tobacco, or something similar, before finally leading us to the exit of the orphanage, which had a large yard with trees for the children to play.
"See you later..." I said as she opened the door. However, before leaving, I felt the responsibility to mention something that had been bothering me. I had never seen her smoke before, and in less than a day, she seemed to have transformed into a veteran smoker of 50 or more. "Miss Kiyoko, may I be frank? I suggest you stop smoking. It could kill you one day," I communicated respectfully but directly. She was momentarily stunned before turning and heading off for her training.
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