Chương 2: The Inuzuka

Dawn. The sun had barely cleared the horizon. The world was just waking up, and the air still carried that faint morning chill. Shin was already up. He sat in the corridor overlooking the small courtyard his parents had left him — the only thing they'd left him. He didn't know much about them. Just their names, and that they'd been shinobi. He sat in black casual clothes, knees folded beneath him, hands resting on his thighs, eyes closed. His breathing was slow and even. Like meditation.

Like he'd dissolved into the stillness around him, and a single movement would shatter it. Beside him lay a bamboo sword. The swordsmanship was the one thing he'd carried into this world with him. He had a rough sense of the power levels here — they ran high. So every morning, without fail, he sat like this. Not to train his body — he was too young for that, and honestly no stronger than any other kid his age. This was for the mind. To sharpen it. To keep it from going soft.

"Shin!" A voice cut through the quiet courtyard from outside. A kid's voice. Sharp and clear in the morning stillness. Shin opened his eyes slowly, expression flat with mild resignation. This early. He rose, crossed the courtyard, and walked to the gate.

"Shin! Shin, if you don't open up, I'm gonna kick this—" Creak. The boy outside stopped mid-sentence. He looked at Shin's expressionless face and laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh. I, uh. Thought you weren't home." He was about Shin's age, similar height and build, with short brown hair that stuck out in every direction and two bold red-brown markings on his cheeks.

"What do you want?" Shin said.

"You're early."

"Sis made yellowfin tuna this morning. Mom told me to come get you." He grabbed Shin's arm and immediately started pulling.

"Let's go."

"Hold on." Shin stopped him, turned back, closed the gate, then fell into step beside him at his own unhurried pace. The boy groaned but didn't argue. His name was Kiba Inuzuka — and really, Shin's only friend in this world. Though calling it friendship was generous. Kiba was still a kid, and in most things, it was Shin doing the looking-after. By temperament, Kiba shouldn't have liked someone like Shin at all. Too quiet. Too composed. Too much like he thought he was better than everyone.

But there was history between their families. Kiba's mother, Tsume Inuzuka, had been a comrade of Shin's father, Tsukasa Takami. After Tsukasa died, Tsume had looked after Shin. She was his legal guardian. That bond made everything else follow naturally. Kiba hadn't warmed to Shin at first. But Shin had a talent for quietly smoothing things over with Tsume whenever Kiba messed up — which was often — and Kiba had gradually, grudgingly decided that this weird, stiff, too-mature kid was worth keeping around.

He'd even, in his own warped logic, decided Shin was his kouhai. His follower. His responsibility to bring along when he went out to play, conveniently placed to absorb any parental anger. Shin hadn't particularly wanted to babysit a six-year-old. But he wasn't willing to disappoint Tsume after everything she'd done for him. So here they were....... The Inuzuka compound wasn't far. A few minutes of walking and Kiba shoved the door open and hollered inside.

"Mom! Sis! We're back!" Shin stepped through the gate into a wide courtyard. A girl in an apron stood there, maybe thirteen or fourteen, holding two plates in each hand with practiced ease.

"Oh, Shin — come eat! I made tuna." Hana Inuzuka smiled like sunlight. Shin gave a small bow.

"Hana-nee."

"Kiba, go bring out the rest." She nodded toward the house.

"Ugh. Fine." He slouched off.

"Need any help?" Shin asked.

"No, no, you go wait inside." She headed in, and Shin followed. Behind them, Kiba shot a look at Shin's back and made a face....... Inside, Tsume Inuzuka sat on the floor with four dogs arranged around her: one blue-gray, three gray. The blue-gray one was massive, built like a wolf, blind in one eye — that was Kuromaru, Tsume's ninken. He could speak. The three gray ones were leaner, quieter — the Haimaru Brothers, Hana's ninken.

"Shin's here?" Tsume didn't look up.

"Tsume-san." Shin bowed. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Kuromaru turned his single eye toward Shin.

"You ever think about getting a ninken? You're going to be a shinobi, aren't you?" Tsume said nothing, just watched Shin — clearly leaving the answer to him. Shin paused.

"I'm not from an Inuzuka family. It wouldn't be right."

"We're not offering to teach you the clan's secret techniques," Tsume said.

"Just one dog, for reconnaissance. Like Kakashi has."

"... I'll think about it after I graduate," Shin said.

"No rush." Tsume gave a small nod. She didn't push. Her meaning was clear enough — she wasn't trying to make him one of them, just trying to give him an edge.......

"Where's that brat?" Tsume called toward the kitchen.

"I sent him to carry plates," Hana called back." Kiba!" Tsume's voice cracked like a whip.

"Move your ass or I'll move it for you!" Shin's eye twitched slightly. She'd never spoken to him like that. For him, somehow, she had a different voice entirely. Footsteps. Kiba came charging in with plates stacked in his arms. Tsume was on her feet before he finished setting them down — she caught his ear in one hand and squeezed." Ow — ow ow ow—""You're slow, you're reckless, and you embarrass this family every time you set foot outside," she said, voice low and sharp.

"What exactly are you good for?"" Sorry, sorry—" Hana watched with calm familiarity. Shin ate. Kiba's ear was still red when they finally sat down. He didn't say a word throughout most of the meal. Then Tsume set down her chopsticks.

"I'm enrolling both of you in the Academy. One week." Silence.

"The Academy?" Kiba's head snapped up." The Academy? Ninja Academy?" Shin stilled.

"It's the right age," Hana said, leaning toward Shin with a warm smile.

"The new term's starting. You'll have classmates, teachers—" She paused meaningfully.

"Be good to them, okay? And keep an eye on Kiba for me."

"He doesn't need to keep an eye on me," Kiba muttered. Thud. Tsume's fist dropped onto his skull.

"You do what Shin says. If I hear you caused trouble at that school, I will skin you. Am I clear?" Kiba's eyes went watery. He nodded like a bobblehead. Midday. Late summer. The sun was out but not overbearing — clouds drifted through and threw cool shadows over the grass. A light wind moved through the trees. Shin lay in the shade, hands folded behind his head, eyes half-closed. Watching the clouds. Not thinking much. Just existing. This is something I never had before.

In a past life, stillness had always meant waiting for something bad. Here, it was just... still. Across the clearing, Kiba was running around with a group of kids his age. Shouts, laughter, some game Shin had no interest in joining. He watched them the way you'd watch rain — present, but not involved.

"Hey, Shin! Come play!" One of the kids waved at him.

"Don't bother," Kiba said without looking over.

"He won't come."

"How come he's always like that?"

"He's just like that." Kiba shrugged, though there was a trace of affection under the annoyance.

"Ignore him. Let's go." Shin caught Kiba's tone and almost smiled. Almost. You'd think they'd be used to it by now. He wasn't going to play hide-and-seek with a pack of six-year-olds. He was fine here. Other people's distance had never bothered him — they were children, and Kiba wasn't going anywhere. The afternoon drifted by. Shin was nearly asleep when he noticed the blond boy. He came from across the field — orange collar, black shirt, white shorts with those red spiral patterns.

He walked toward Kiba's group with a slightly nervous grin, like someone who'd practiced this in the mirror.

"Hey — what are you guys playing? Can I join?" Kiba's group went quiet. The kids started whispering. That's him. What's his name again? Naruto Uzumaki. My mom said I can't play with him. Mine too. The words weren't even hushed. Not really. The blond boy's smile faded, slowly, like a candle going out.

"Sure," Kiba said. Everyone blinked." Kiba?"

"Really?!" Naruto's face lit up." But he's—" Kiba pulled his friends into a huddle, dropping his voice. They murmured together. Whatever he was saying, it made all of them start grinning — the specific grin of children planning something mean. Naruto stood off to the side, watching them, baffled and hopeful. A minute later, Kiba turned back with that grin.

"Yeah, you can play. We're doing hide-and-seek. Since you just got here — you're it."

"No problem!" Naruto thumped his chest.

"I'll find every single one of you!" Kiba. Shin watched from the shade, putting it together without much effort. Predictable. He felt something, briefly — a quiet disapproval. But he didn't move. Kiba's personality wasn't something words fixed, and he wasn't going to pretend he had standing to lecture anyone. Children being cruel to other children. Nothing new. He closed his eyes.

"Okay, close your eyes and count to a hundred. No peeking."

"Got it! Go hide — I'm starting!" Naruto's voice rang out across the clearing, eager and bright. He covered his eyes with both hands.

"One, two, three, four—" The kids scattered without a sound. Shin heard the rustle of feet, then nothing. The clearing went quiet. Only Naruto's voice remained, counting steadily into the empty air. Shin lay in the shade and listened, then stopped listening. He fell asleep.......

"... ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine — hundred!" Naruto yanked his hands from his eyes, blinking in the sudden brightness. He scanned the clearing, squinting against the light. Here I come! He was still smiling. Still sure. The field was empty. Across the village, Kiba walked home alone, hands in his pockets. His friends had all peeled off in different directions, still laughing about it. Good call, Kiba. Your mom can't even be mad this time. We didn't play with him. We just — technically...

He'd felt pretty good about the whole thing for about three minutes. Now he just felt vaguely sour and wasn't sure why. He turned a corner and stopped. A small white dog was crouched in the street just outside his family's gate. It looked up at Kiba with dull, tired eyes and let out a low sound. It was tiny. Young. Clearly hadn't been alive very long. Kiba crouched down and stared at it. Whose dog is this?

"His name is Akamaru." Kiba looked up. His mother and sister were both standing in the gateway, arms crossed, watching him. Behind them, Kuromaru and the Haimaru Brothers sat in a neat row.

"Starting today," Tsume said, "he's your responsibility." Akamaru. Kiba looked back at the small white dog. Akamaru looked back at him, still worn-out looking, still quiet. My dog. Kiba reached out his hand slowly. Akamaru sniffed it — then licked his palm with a small, rough tongue. Oh. The warmth that spread through Kiba's chest was completely unexpected. He felt his mouth doing something embarrassing. He let it.

"Hey." He kept his voice as steady as he could.

"I'm Kiba. Nice to meet you — Akamaru."" Arf!" He picked him up, grinning — raised him overhead like a trophy — and Akamaru immediately peed on his face." What the—?!" Tsume burst out laughing, loud and unrestrained. Hana covered her mouth and failed to hide her smile. Kiba stood there sputtering, wiping his face with his sleeve, somewhere between outrage and reluctant affection. Then Hana looked around.

"Hey, where's Shin? Did he head home already?"

"Huh? Shin?" Kiba froze. Shin. Takami Shin. Who was asleep in the clearing when I left—"He, uh." Kiba looked at his mother, then his sister.

"He went home early." Hana's expression shifted. Not angry. Just that particular older-sibling look.

"... Did he?" Kiba very carefully did not make eye contact with anyone.