I decided to take a detour to clear my head. That's when a familiar chime sounded in my ears.
Achievement - I am a player too! - Gain a Kage's Recognition
Reward - 1000 SS
LEGEND - 95
The scent of tobacco still lingered in my clothes when I stepped out of the Hokage's office. The corridor outside was empty — only the quiet rustle of paper and the faint echo of footsteps somewhere below broke the silence. Evening sunlight poured through the windows, tinting the wooden floors gold.
It was a peaceful sight. Almost made you forget that peace, in this world, was bought with corpses.
I had just refused the Hokage's offer — or rather, deferred it under the mask of humility. My words had been polite, deferential even, but the implication was clear.
I didn't want the Sarutobi clan's "help."
And I wasn't sure whether that made me brave or suicidal.
-----
By the time I reached the gates of the clan compound, the streets were already busy with vendors closing up, children darting between stalls, and shinobi returning from patrols. The familiar chatter felt comforting — proof that, despite everything, life went on.
"Welcome back, Ren-sama," Sayaka greeted me, bowing slightly. Her hands were stained with ink from sealing practice, her eyes tired but bright.
"Thank you. How's the progress?"
She smiled faintly. "I can finally write fire without smudging the strokes," she showed me her work she had been carrying around. She was one of our youngest ones.
I chuckled. "Then we're halfway to writing explosion. Keep it up."
Her laughter followed me as I walked deeper into the compound.
------
After a small fuss over my injury, we sat down to eat.
Dinner was simple but warm — rice, grilled pork, and a light broth with vegetables. Haruto, Reina, Sayo, and Daichi sat with me, chattering between bites. Their presence, noisy and familiar, helped wash away the metallic taste of battle still stuck to my tongue.
"Ren-sama, tell us! What did the Hokage say?" Daichi asked between mouthfuls, his cheeks puffed like a squirrel.
I smiled. "He said we're doing well. That we should keep at it."
"That's all?" Haruto frowned. "He didn't offer anything? Like, you know… funding or instructors?"
I glanced up, catching his earnest expression. He was actually growing a lot world-wise as a leader himself. Kind of like a diligent young master, the thought came to me unbidden. He had kind of become the de facto sub-leader now. The boy had also started training seriously these past months. But he still looked up to me like I had all the answers. I wished I did.
"He did," I admitted. "But I declined."
The table went silent. Even the sound of chopsticks against bowls stopped.
"You… declined?" Reina blinked. "Why would you do that?"
"Because," I said slowly, "gifts that come from above often come with strings attached. And if you're not careful, you'll find yourself tied in a web before you even notice."
Sayo looked down, thoughtful. "Like the contracts you taught us about?"
"Exactly like that."
The words hung there for a while, sinking in. Eventually, Haruto shrugged, understanding a bit but mostly trusting my judgment anyway.
I smiled faintly. Trust was a dangerous thing. But I'd take it for now.
After dinner, I dismissed them all early, citing exhaustion. The truth was, I needed silence — to think, to plan, to breathe.
I stepped out into the courtyard, the night air cool against my face. The moon hung high, half-shrouded by drifting clouds. The lanterns by the gate flickered in the breeze, their flames dancing like restless spirits.
For a moment, I simply stood there, staring at the symbol carved into the wooden gate — the Kunai and the brush of the Kurosawa clan, carved roughly into the wood..
A year ago, it had been nothing. Just a half-broken joke I had made. Now it was real. Fragile, yes, but real.
And that terrified me.
I exhaled slowly and muttered, "System, open status."
The faint blue overlay flickered into existence in front of me — invisible to everyone but me.
STATUS
KUROSAWA REN
Power - Inferior Academy Student
Phisique - 60
Chakra - 520
Specials - None
Skills - Tagcraft II
System Stats - 1204
Call - The eye passes.
1204 SS.
The spoils of our survival — accumulated from missions, training, and the faint trickle I earned by expanding the clan's reach.
For weeks, I had been saving them. Waiting for the right moment.
That moment was now.
The others were asleep. The compound was quiet. And I could feel the fatigue deep in my soul — not the body, not the mind, but deeper. That kind of weariness that made every victory feel temporary.
I whispered, "Upgrade: Soul – Basic."
The interface pulsed once.
"Confirmed."
The world went black.
At first, there was nothing. Just silence — vast and empty. Then came a sound, faint and rhythmic, like a heartbeat echoing underwater.
The darkness rippled, and suddenly I was floating. Golden streams of light flowed around me, each pulse carrying warmth and memory. Faces — blurred and familiar — flashed by. My parents. My teammates. My clan. My past life.
Then came the pain. Not sharp, but heavy — as if my entire being was being stretched thin and rewoven. The golden light burned hotter, brighter. My chest felt like it would explode.
And through it all, I heard a whisper — faint, almost inaudible, yet resonant in my skull.
I gasped. The air rushed back into my lungs as my eyes snapped open.
The courtyard was the same, yet not. The world looked… sharper. The colors deeper. I could feel every rustle of wind, every flicker of chakra in the air.
I looked at my hand. For a fleeting moment, it glowed faintly gold, like sunlight trapped under skin.
Then it faded.
I collapsed to my knees, panting, a faint smile tugging at my lips.
"...Awesome."
Minutes passed before I managed to stand again. My head still buzzed, but the fog that had always sat at the edge of my thoughts — the dull weight of two lives' worth of memories — was gone. For the first time, I felt whole. Even though my stats hadn't changed. I felt stronger.
The upgrade hadn't made me stronger in the physical sense. No sudden power spike or flashy ability. But something fundamental had changed. My focus was sharper, my chakra… steadier.
More than that, I felt anchored.
I looked up at the moon again, its silver light spilling over the compound like a benediction.
I whispered the prayer I had taught the children — one I had made long ago,
"To the powers that be, and to those who came before, and those who'll come after. May your grace stay with me forever, and with mine when I'm gone."
The words left my lips like a promise.
The faint creak of a door behind me broke the silence.
"Ren-sama?"
I turned to see Sayo peeking out, her small frame silhouetted by the doorway's light.
"Can't sleep?" I asked.
She shook her head. "I felt… something. Like a pulse."
I hesitated, then smiled. "Just a little experiment. Go back to bed."
She frowned. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Never better."
She didn't look convinced, but she nodded anyway and left.
I watched her go, then turned back to the sky.
The upgrade had taken something from me — I could feel it. Some innocence, maybe. Some softness. But it had also given me something I needed more.
Clarity.
And clarity was the rarest thing in this world.
As the night deepened, I remembered the words that the Hokage had muttered to himself. I whispered into the wind — a vow, not to the Hokage, not to the village, but to myself.
"If the fire burns to protect, then I'll be the blade that shapes its flame."
-----
From Ren's window, far across the village, an old man with a glass ball exhaled a thin stream of smoke.
"The fire spreads… indeed," Hiruzen murmured, eyes glinting in the dim light.
He turned back to the mountain — the carved faces watching silently — and the whisper of his pipe filled the room once more.