“ Where did I go wrong? ” mumbled a young man, a whisper only heard by himself. He kneeled besides a tree, his thighs touching his chest as he wrapped his arms around them looking on at the azure sky. From close inspection, one could see that the young boy had not been getting enough rest. After his previous mission to the land of grass, his encounters left him confused. It was as if all he ever knew was a lie. His growing eminence and prestige could not aid him as he thought it would. What were the fruits of his hard-work? Is the path he is taking truly the right one to establish peace? Wouldn't embracing others into his life make it easier? Where should he even start? Questions enveloped the mind of the young adolescent as he kept on watching the sky with dull eyes. “For years... I thought enough power was all that was required to establish peace... But... After seeing how it corrupts people, is it a wise path for me to walk? Ugh!” the young man continued to ponder, the confusion kept on frustrating him and, for the first time in his life, He did not know what to do.
Down the rugged path came a kunoichi draped in a tight fitted kimono. With her long brown hair flowing graciously behind her, she carried a bag of groceries, mostly assorted with instant made ramen. Feeling a presence within the air, she halted to a sudden stop, before catching a figure at the corner of her eye. From what she could make out, it was a boy, sitting by himself along a tree. It was odd, especially considering that most others of his age would have been attending the academy --what ever could have been wrong with this one? Considering the consequences, she made to approach him, with her breasts --even larger than usual-- shaking reflexively with each step she took forward. Her rounded stomach drooped out beneath, serving as a more efficient means to carry the large bang around with her.
"Hello," she said softly, squatting so that she was eye level with the young boy. Her voice was mysteriously comforting, known to ease away one's sorrows at a quickened pace. There was an unusual aroma about her, some superficial nuance. She waited for a few seconds until speaking out again; she was selective of her word choice, not wanting to offend this individual before her.
"Will you accompany me for a short meal?" For a woman who could sense negative emotions in particular, it was quite obvious that the boy was not feeling very well about himself, though for the time being, she chose not to expose it. She planned to comfort him instead, and if he chose to speak about his problems on his own accord, than she would additionally see to fixing them. Right now, the best thing she could do was provide him with some sort of company, even though she had offered the exact opposite.
Senkai heard a sweet, angelic voice before him as he raised his head to see whom it was. Being insomniac for the past few weeks, he did not have much energy due to lack of sleep. She saw the woman before her, with a tight-fitted kimono and long brown hair. However, with her undeniable renown as a kunoichi, she did not even need to say her name. She was Sayuri: one of the best kunoichi the world had ever produced. Looking into her eyes, Senkai felt as if a little weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Oh... Lady Sayuri. Uhm... Yes, thank you.” Senkai addressed the woman with respect. If those who knew Senkai were present, they would not believe their ears. It was not common that the young man showed respect for anyone. “Uh... May I also carry your bag?” the young man inquired, needing something to do to get his mind of his thoughts.
"Oh, how very thoughtful of you," she said, very carefully transferring the bag from within her grasp to his. Her hands fell upon her enlarged stomach, cradling it gently. She was showing now more than ever.
The walk to her home was brief, yet joyous. Wherever this woman walked, pink petals seemed to flow with the wind and feeble white butterflies appeared from nowhere, possibly attributed to her arousing aroma. The distinct scent of strawberries lingered from her very being at all times, and the rays of the sun shined down upon her path as if heaven itself had dictated her an angel. She was glorified beyond belief and the many citizens they encountered along the way could manage nothing more than their utmost admiration for the charming beauty.
In time, the two appeared through a particular gate, and from thereafter, all the pedestrians seemingly possessed blank eyes. Many grew wary of the outsider traveling alongside the maiden, and their eyes narrowed, thick veins bulging along the sides of their faces. Sayuri, however, paid them no mind, discerning their paranoia with the jiggle of her bust. At the end of the route came a small house, kept safe by a paper thin sliding door. Opening it gently, Sayuri aligned her backside to the door and gestured for Seika to make himself comfortable. There was little to no furniture within the house, only a hardwood floor with some few soft cushions. Presumably, it was upon one of those that Sayuri had hinted at before she disappeared into the kitchen, taking with her the bag of instant made ramen.
The young Senkai followed the beautiful maiden, each of his footsteps copying hers. Eyes were on Senkai, and it gave him discomfort. However, he was more surprised that he actually cared. Senkai fixated his eyes on the house as he trudged behind the brown-haired maiden.
He gently sat on the cushion resting on the ground, crossing his legs as he watched the vuloptuous maiden disappear into another room. His eyes scanned the room. For one of her fame and eminence, her house did not show it, something he saw strange. “Huh... This was... uhm... Anti-climactic...” the young boy mumbled to himself. However, as he did not wield all the facts, he decided to remain calm and kept quiet, so as not to offend the woman. He waited for her to return, casually making a rhythmic sound through slapping his thighs to pass the time.
Sayuri returned after some short period of time, carrying a small portable table with both hands, which housed a bowl of ramen. She then set it down in front of Senkai and offered him a pair of chopsticks, before going back into the kitchen and getting another table for herself. Taking a seat directly opposite of him --which, quite expectedly, prompted her large chest to wobble-- she separated the chopsticks and began very gently slurping noodles through her soft lips. She glanced every now and then at the boy before her, wondering if he had anything he wanted to get off of his shoulders. Sayuri appeared to be a rather trustworthy source, someone a child most of all, would deem sufficient to speak with.
The brown-haired boy grasped the chopsticks between his right index and middle finger. His hand tapped the chopsticks on the floor whilst his eyes was, for some reason, fixated on the woman's wobbly breasts. He quickly redirected his eyes to meet hers, and that oddly made it seem as if weight had been lifted out of his shoulders. He felt comfortable talking to the woman, but he was not ready to simply burden her with his problems, so he asked her a question instead. “Lady Sayuri... If I may ask, what does it truly mean to be a shinobi? Is it the sake of a village? Peace? War? Or power and hegemony?” the young man asked as his chopsticks dipped into his bowl, twirling around it. The young boy was one who never spoke of his issues to others, nor did he have any issues for that matter, so this was not something easy for him to do.
There was a long silence. Sayuri took her time, slurping up the noodles with her chopsticks. For a moment, Senkai may have doubted whether or not his words had ever truly reached the bust kunoichi, though sure enough, she eventually ran a hand through her hair, and diverted her attention towards him. "There are several interpretations," she said softly, raising the bowl with both hands towards her soft lips. "Depending on where you're coming from, the definition of a shinobi can be drastically different."
There was another calming period of silence. Sayuri sipped the warm soup and in time, set it back down upon the small tray. "Well, I suppose you'd like to know what it means to me. A ninja is one who has learned to control his own emotions; one who has quite literally come to master his own feelings, and never allows them to get the best of them. Naturally, a ninja is loyal to history, though most of all, a ninja is one who endures."
It was not a very plausible subject to converse about with a minor. She would have very much liked to tell him of her experiences at his age, how cold her heart had become in order to partake in countless assassinations. Her tone was one of mystery, leaving confirmation up for Senkai to discover on his own.
Silence blanketed the room for a few seconds, as Senkai continued to devour his noodles, chewing slowly and relishing on it's flavor. He had scrutinized Sayuri's tone, and it was different from before. Senkai broke the silence once again, “How did you do it? How did you mantain bonds with others whilst being a shinobi? How did Sayuri the woman co-exist with Sayuri the shinobi?” he asked, his hazel eyes looking deep into hers. He continued “Or did they even co-exist?” the questions Senkai asked were inter-related and a sequence. He was not one to ask for help, so he made the questions in a pattern, in which the answers he could configure to solve his issue. He continued to slurp his noodles, his eyes docile and lacking his usual stern and calm manner. It was like his entire being was stripped off of him. He was not sure Senkai the human existed, as he endlessly sought power to achieve peace in the world, losing all attachments to others in the process. With that lust for power seemingly fading, his true persona awakened once again, fragile and innocent. As such, he could not open to her with ease.