Chương 33: Chapter 33: Absence
The classroom was unusually quiet that morning. Ren's empty seat seemed to scream his absence.
"Before we begin class," Fujimoto-sensei's voice was more serious than usual, "I must inform you that your classmate Mizutani Ren will be away for a few days. His father, Mizutani Toshiro, has died on a mission serving the village."
A heavy silence fell over the class.
Jun'ko put a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide open. Aoi dropped the book she was reading. Even Shinji, who usually slept through morning classes, was wide awake, his face pale.
"At times like this," Fujimoto continued, "it is important to remember that being a ninja also means this. It means being ready to give everything for the village, like Mizutani Toshiro and all the other Ninja in the village have done."
Yukiko looked at Ren's empty chair, her hands clenched into fists under the desk. The temperature around her had dropped imperceptibly.
Meanwhile, in the Mizutani weapons shop, the shutters remained closed. A simple sign on the door read: "Closed due to a family bereavement."
Inside, Ren sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by the jutsu scrolls his father had given him. His mind kept returning to their training sessions, to those moments when he could have said "I love you" but hadn't, thinking there would always be time.
His mother moved around the house like a ghost, making tea that no one drank, arranging weapons that no one would buy that day.
A gentle knock on the front door startled them both. It was Kenji, the old ninja from the ramen stand.
"It's tradition," he said in a gentle voice, handing a small package to Yuki, "to bring food to the grieving family. Although," he added with a faint smile, "this ramen will never be as good as the one Toshiro liked."
In the afternoon, after class, Jun'ko, Aoi, and Shinji showed up at the shop door. No one knew what to say exactly, but their presence spoke louder than any words.
"We took notes for you," Aoi said, putting down a carefully organized notebook. "And Jun'ko promised not to make any more pink mist until you get back."
"That's not true!" Jun'ko protested weakly, tears in her eyes. "I just said that... that..." She couldn't finish her sentence before she burst into tears.
Shinji simply placed a small coral sculpture on the table - it was of a flower that seemed to dance in the wind.
"To remember," he said simply.
Yukiko arrived later, alone. She didn't say anything, just sat next to Ren in silence. Her presence was like that of snow - silent but comforting in its coldness.
Left alone, Ren found himself struggling with conflicting emotions. His adult mind tried to rationalize - death was a constant in the life of a ninja, he had studied it, he had seen it, in his previous life he was even dealing with it clinically. But his child's heart screamed with a primitive, visceral pain, that no previous life could prepare him to face.
He found himself staring at one of Aoi's medical books, and for a moment he felt an irrational anger - what good was all that knowledge if he couldn't save his father? What good was being a reborn adult if he couldn't protect the people he loved?
That evening, as the sun set over the mist of Kirigakure, Yuki found his son in the courtyard.
The tanto his father had given him lay beside him as he mechanically repeated the kata, each movement a silent prayer, each position a memory. The blade felt heavier now, as if it carried the weight of all the lessons not yet taught, all the techniques not yet taught.
'Watch your posture, keep your center of gravity low,' his father's voice echoed in his memory. 'Every movement must have a purpose.'
"Tomorrow," his mother said softly, "we must prepare the memorial service."
Ren nodded, his hand gripping the hilt of his tanto. In Kirigakure, the bodies of ninja who fell on missions rarely returned home. Instead, a memorial stone was added to the war memorial - a place where the living could go to remember and honor their loved ones.
"Tou-san," he whispered into the night, performing the last kata with aching precision, "I miss you."
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