บท 257: 256-Why Are they Chasing You?
The sunlight filtered softly through the windows of Renjiro's house, casting a warm, golden glow across the sparsely furnished room. The brightness of the new day stood in stark contrast to his current mood, which had been overshadowed by lingering disappointment. He sat cross-legged in the center of the room, his arms resting on his knees, eyes closed, but his mind was far from peaceful.
He had tried countless times, exploring all his options, but mastering Senjutsu had proven to be impossible for him. It stung—a skill he had so deeply wanted to acquire, something that had drawn him ever since his fateful meeting with Momo and Tenjin. Yet, no matter how much he tried, it remained out of his grasp.
"What should I do today?" Renjiro wondered aloud, his voice echoing in the empty room.
He exhaled slowly, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. Training didn't appeal to him today, he needed something else to keep his mind of things. He was mentally and physically exhausted from the relentless push he had subjected himself to over the past few weeks. Maybe a day of rest would do him some good.
He stood, stretching his limbs and feeling the slight pull of tension in his muscles. His gaze shifted to the corner of the room, where his weapon, his Bō, was propped against the wall.
The familiar sight of it brought a small measure of comfort, though not enough to lift his spirits entirely. He walked over and picked it up, running his fingers along the smooth wooden shaft. He flicked the staff and exposed the blades with a soft metallic click, and a new thought entered his mind.
"This needs fixing," Renjiro muttered, inspecting the blades.
The edges were slightly dulled, and a few nicks from wear and tear marked the surface. It wasn't something that could be ignored for long. A dull blade was dangerous to its wielder as much as it was to any enemy.
He twirled the staff experimentally, listening to the faint whir of air around it.
"It's not like I'm going to need it much longer anyway," he mused aloud.
His mind began to drift again, thinking of the future. Using the staff in the ANBU was becoming a liability. The weapon, while efficient, was too recognizable.
Anyone who saw it would probably know who he was since not most shinobi used such a weapon, and that was the last thing Renjiro wanted.
"Maybe I should consider switching to swords," he continued, thinking out loud.
"Or even a sabre. Something more common, something that can't be traced back to me once I leave the ANBU."
Leaving the ANBU was inevitable—Renjiro knew that much.
He never really planned on joining it in the first place as his ambitions stretched far beyond its confines. With the Third Shinobi War fast approaching, he had calculated that his best chance for departure would be after the war concluded.
That was when he would finalize his plans and set out to accomplish what he had long been preparing for. Which was making a timeline that was prepared for what was to come be it the fourth shinobi war or Kaguya herself.
"After the war, when things settle down," Renjiro said quietly, his fingers tightening slightly around the staff,
"that's when I'll make my move."
Renjiro wasn't naïve. He knew that leaving the ANBU wouldn't be simple. The organization wasn't something one could just walk away from, especially with leaders like Danzo lurking in the shadows, always seeking to manipulate and control talented shinobi like him.
He had to be careful, strategic. Power, he knew, was the key. If he was strong enough, no one would be able to stand in his way. They would have no choice but to let him go.
"Yes… I need to reach Kage level by then," Renjiro thought, nodding to himself.
While he could not learn Senjutsu, there were still avenues he could explore to increase his power, which was everything in the shinobi world. It granted freedom, respect, and influence.
The more powerful you were, the more you could do as you pleased. Renjiro had seen it in Jiraiya. The Sannin was an example of someone who was strong enough to roam freely, moving in and out of Konoha without any real obligations holding him back. Renjiro wanted that same freedom.
"Jiraiya's path…" Renjiro murmured, his thoughts swirling. "That might be the way forward for me."
Jiraiya, despite his carefree nature, was a shinobi of immense power and influence. He had earned his freedom through his strength, and because of that, the village granted him the liberty to follow his own path, at least that was how it would go if things followed the original storyline.
Renjiro realized that if he wanted the same, he would have to prove his worth to the village first. His time in the ANBU was just the beginning. The upcoming war would be his stage to demonstrate his strength and make a name for himself.
"But Jiraiya also served the village in his own way," Renjiro thought, his expression hardening slightly.
"I'll have to do the same. I'll serve in the ANBU, make a name for myself in the war… then, after I pay my dues and the time is right, I'll leave."
The war would give him the opportunity he needed. In the chaos of battle, in the struggles for survival, Renjiro would rise. And when it was all over, when the dust settled and the villages were left to pick up the pieces, Renjiro would be in a position of power.
Strong enough to protect himself from Danzo, strong enough to influence the village in the way he intended.
Renjiro turned the staff over in his hands one last time, then nodded to himself. His path was set. He would follow the example of Jiraiya, serve Konoha during the war, and then forge his own destiny once the conflict was over.
The soft morning light streaming through the window seemed less harsh now, as if reflecting the clarity of his newfound resolve. Renjiro placed the staff over his shoulder and moved toward the door, his movements purposeful.
His first task of the day would be to get his weapon repaired. There was still time before Yano or Kakashi called him for a mission, and he needed to be prepared for whatever might come next.
The air was cool as Renjiro stepped outside, the quiet streets of the Uchiha clan residency still relatively empty in the early morning hours. His footsteps were soft against the cobblestone path as he made his way toward the weapon smith's shop, the weight of his staff familiar and reassuring against his back.
As Renjiro neared the edge of the clan district, lost in his thoughts, a sudden noise caught his attention. The sound of hurried footsteps, quick and frantic, echoed down the street.
His senses sharpened as he turned toward the source, his body instinctively tensing. A small figure was running toward him, moving with a mix of desperation and panic.
The figure soon collided with him, stumbling into his legs and nearly knocking him off balance. He reached out to steady the boy, his hands closing gently around the child's shoulders. The boy looked up, eyes wide with fear and chest heaving as he gasped for breath.
Renjiro's sharp gaze softened slightly as he recognized the child. "Obito?" he said, surprised.
Before Renjiro could ask what was wrong, the sound of more footsteps reached his ears. This time, they were heavier, accompanied by angry shouts. Renjiro turned his head and saw a small group of villagers running toward them, their expressions twisted with frustration and anger.
Renjiro frowned, his body instinctively moving to shield Obito from the approaching mob. His mind raced as he quickly assessed the situation. The boy was trembling slightly behind him, his fingers clutching Renjiro's cloak as if seeking protection.
"What's going on?" Renjiro asked, his voice low but firm, as the villagers came to a stop in front of him. Their faces were flushed, their breathing ragged from the chase, but they glared at Obito with disdain.
"There he is!" one of the villagers shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at the young boy. "That little troublemaker!"
Renjiro's frown deepened as he glanced back at Obito, who looked away, clearly afraid. He tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder, his mind racing with questions. Why were they chasing a child? What had Obito done to provoke such a reaction?
"Why are they chasing you?" Renjiro asked, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity. His eyes remained focused on the villagers, but his thoughts were already spinning as he wondered what could have caused such an outburst from the crowd.
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