CH_4.26 (126)


    ———


    .


    So much had happened in her life that one-and-a-half years seemed like they had passed in the blink of an eye, yet the time before seemed ages ago. She held her time in the academy in fond regard— it was a carefree, peaceful time, before she knew what it truly meant to be a shinobi. If she was being honest, she still didn''t know what it meant to be a shinobi. At least, that''s what her teacher kept saying to her. It was quite irritating, to be honest.


    Anyway, look at her, being swept away by the memories.


    Speaking of memories. She remembered Takuma. He was a quiet boy in her ss, didn''t speak to anyone, always minding his own business, or was it that he had no one to talk to. What was the term for it?<em>Socially awkward</em>, that''s it. Takuma had no friends. What he had was bullies— Hiji and his cohort had taken him as his target. To this date, she couldn''t figure out how that was a fun thing to do. She read it was something about the feeling of power over someone else.


    She pitied him. She even tried to help him, but when he didn''t seem enthusiastic about helping himself, she gave up. By their final year, she had stopped her efforts almostpletely.


    In hindsight, perhaps making friends with Takuma could''ve helped him, but she didn''t go that far. Why would she?


    Momoe hated him after all.


    <em>Civilian</em>. That''s what her parents were, and before she received her forehead protector, that was her identity as well.


    <em>Shinobi</em>. That''s what she was now.


    Even though they upied the same vige, the two groups lived separate worlds.


    Civilians lived their lives in safety, away from the violent turmoil of the world they lived in, but that safety came at the price of liberty. That didn''t mean they weren''t happy, but they had to sacrifice one thing to gain another— though there were those like her dad who could live without sacrificing freedom (<em>abundant money tends to have that effect</em>). The civilians bankrolled shinobi, and yet thetter was conceived superior.


    Then there were shinobi, who treaded danger and partook in the violence they themselves created. The life of a shinobi was hazardous, death could send an invitation every day, and one could only refuse the invitation so many times. Only the truly strong had the right to continue living— but if history taught anything, even the strong sumbed before their natural end. However, that risk granted them power and authority. Evident by the fact that the vige was created by a shinobi, and the head had always been a shinobi. Perhaps the people who had it best were the shinobi who didn''t go to the frontlines and instead used their skills in different areas. They had a lower ceiling than the traditional shinobi, but they were safe behind the vige walls— and yet they still belonged among shinobi. Of course, there were exceptions— healers, engineers, seal masters— who were looked up to by their peers due to their importance. And yet, the Hokage had always been those who disyed their strength on the battlefield.


    Momoe had yet to figure out why, but she had noticed those from a long line of shinobi history didn''t appreciate when an outsider entered their world.<em>Civilian-born shinobi</em> were the outsiders. Perhaps they didn''t think that someone without the lineage and background could do the job they did as well as they did and didn''t appreciate the attempt.


    And in a way, Momoe could see where they came from. Since entering the academy to this day, she had noticed how civilian students alwaysgged behind their shinobi counterparts. It was a generalization, but there was real-life proof for it. Most of the high-ranking positions in the shinobi administration were upied by those from shinobi ns or families, and the percentage of n jonin dwarfed civilian-born jonin— those like the Fourth Hokage were considered anomalies. Even that was short-lived, and now, the Third Hokage was back in power.


    She remembered the early years of her academy. Momoe wasn''t always at the top of her ss. In the early days, when she couldn''t do the things she could do now, she struggled just like others. She would look at her ssmates, who were better than her, and wondered how they got so much better (<em>she didn''t know the answer then</em>.)


    <em>But if they could do it, she could do it too</em>, Momoe thought and began practicing what was being taught in the ss. Slowly but surely, she began improving— and before she knew it, Momoe was the top student of her batch. Highest theory and practical scores. If it was being taught in the academy, she could do it better than anyone else.


    Along with that improvement in skill came poprity. The ssmates who didn''t talk to her much before became her friends. She got several of her best friends for life from her days in the academy, so she wasn''tining. Who didn''t like making friends?


    But, one day, as she was visiting the faculty room to give her ss instructor a letter from her parents about leaving, she heard the instructors talking about her.


    "Okubo Momoe, top of the ss. Impressive skill for her age," her ss instructor said.


    "They sure are," replied another instructor, "but we both know it''s only time before she gets left behind by the n kids."


    Momoe didn''t remember much from the rest of the conversation, but what she remembered stuck with her. Why would they think that she would be left behind? She didn''t know why both those words bothered her. So, Momoe did the one thing that came to her mind. She continued to train to keep her position at the top. When the academy curriculum wasn''t enough, she began searching for skills that weren''t taught in the academy. Her parents helped her, for which she was grateful.


    And yet, she could see it in the eyes of the instructors. They never considered her an equal to the n kids. They would praise her, but they would carelessly give away clues through their actions. Her sparring schedule, as she noticed, would follow a wave patent with high-ability n kids and low-ability students. Only when she effortlessly defeated the lesser skilled ones would she be pitted against the n kids— who would finally give her fairpetition. But after one or two of those spars, she had to spend four to five spars with ssmates who clearly weren''t her match. Only when she began to sweep the floor with n kids did the instructors begin scheduling all her spars with those at the top of the ss.


    Eventually, she figured out why they treated her like that.


    Because she was a civilian-born student. And civilian-born students weren''t skilled. They put her in the same category despite having her results in front of their eyes.


    A prime example of her findings:<em>Takuma</em>


    The worst student in the academy, someone who would be beaten in every aspect by students several years below them. He couldn''t do anything; it was so bad everyone wondered why he was even in the academy.


    It was people like Takuma who ruined the reputation of civilian-born shinobi. The rest of the civilian-born might not have been as worse as Takuma, but none except her could match them.


    In her eyes, Takuma became the symbol of why she had to work so hard to get the respect she deserved. Even when he improved, Takuma was still stuck at the bottom of the ss; someone who needed three chances to pass the graduation test— further decreasing the image of civilian-borns in her peers'' eyes.


    Perhaps hate was a stronger word than she intended, but she definitely disliked him.


    Only the manners instilled in her by her parents kept her civil with him.


    She was happy when they graduated as she was put in a jonin team where she flourished. Kazuo wasn''t like her academy instructors; he pushed her harder than ever, but only because he saw the potential in her. Taught her skills and showed her aspects of being a shinobi she hadn''t even thought about before.


    As for Takuma,st she heard, he was in the Genin Corp with no further newsing to her through her academy ssmates. It wasn''t a surprise. She understood the dynamics of the Genin Corp— even if someone in his position rose through the proverbial ranks, it would be several years before it would be noteworthy enough to make gossip about.


    ''<em>But…</em>''


    If Momoe weren''t seeing her through her own eyes, she would''ve thought it impossible. For a moment, she even checked if she was under a genjutsu.


    Takuma was fighting on part with Hideaki. The same Takuma who couldn''t touch Hideaki if thetter didn''t want it during the academy.


    "I can see why he got selected into the Police Force," Kazuomented.


    "He has gotten better," said Aimi.


    ''<em>That''s an understatement</em>,'' thought Momoe.


    Everything from the skill behind hisbat arts to speed, strength, and dexterity had improved drastically, more so when you consider that it only had been one and half years since they hadst seen him.


    ''<em>He has improved more than Hideaki?</em>'' she thought.


    If before Takuma couldn''t stand in a fight against Hideaki, he was now fighting him on the same level; it was either that Hideaki hadn''t improved one bit, or Takuma had improved much faster than Hideaki. She knew the former wasn''t true, so thetter could only be the truth.


    ''<em>But how?</em>''


    Takuma dodged Hideaki''s bo-staff attack by backflipping andunched a volley of shuriken simultaneously. Hideaki tried to block them with bo-staff, but some of them hit him in the shoulder and upper chest.


    Hideaki grunted in anger.


    Seeing the opportunity in front of him, Takuma moved in immediately and beganying down abo barrage of perfectly ced blows onto Hideaki, who, surprisingly enough, couldn''t seem to pick a chance to disengage or retaliate. There was an aggression behind his movements which Momoe couldn''t put the finger on— one would expect the aggression to turn his movements crude, but Takuma showed focus through his choices. Each blow timed and ced in weak spots which hurt and hobbled. If Hideaki covered one spot, Takuma would hit another uncovered.


    But then Momoe and her team saw something familiar happen. Hideaki, who was being pushed back, smashed his foot into the ground and came to a stop as though a heavy boulder. Within the next few seconds, he began matching blows with Takuma, and in the moments after, he was overpowering Takuma.


    "Sensei," Aimi turned to Kazuo.


    Kazuo nodded. "Hideaki, chakra augmentations aren''t allowed in this—"


    Before Kazuo couldplete his sentence, Takumanded a punch in Hideaki''s gut which sent him flying several feet.


    "— fight…"


    Momoe looked at Takuma. The look on his face had changed. Before, he looked calm and collected, but now there was a fire in his eyes and a grin on his face. He looked excited, eager, enthusiastic even.


    They heard him mutter, "I didn''t think today would be the day I would face it for the first time. I''m d. I am truly d."


    "… That was chakra augmentation?" muttered Momoe.


    Kazuo nodded.


    Momoe took a deep breath. The guy who could barely make a clone in the academy was practicing chakra augmentations now, a ss of jutsu, challenging to learn and harder to master.


    The punch, as strong as it was, wasn''t enough to keep Hideaki down; even if he was bleeding from the cuts, Takuma had been able to get in through the gaps in the chunky armor he wore. One of the hardest things to do in the world was to put an Akimichi down. He got up, gripped his bo-staff, and charged for Takuma, who, in turn, dropped his kunai and shot forward with bare hands.


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