Chapter 25: The Nojima Family's Return
The Third Hokage sat behind his desk, listening intently as Umino Iruka finished his report. Smoke curled from his pipe, swirling in the dimly lit office, but his focus remained unwavering.
Though he was the leader of Konohagakure, Hiruzen Sarutobi was also an old man—older than the village itself. At sixty-three, the years had weighed heavily on his body, and he could feel the burden of his long reign pressing down on him.
But there was one thing he would never grow indifferent to—the future of Konoha.
As Iruka spoke, Sarutobi immediately understood who he was referring to.
"You're talking about that student, Nobuyuki, aren't you?" Sarutobi exhaled, his keen eyes narrowing slightly. "Indeed, his talent is remarkable."
He tapped his pipe against the edge of his ashtray before continuing, "Alright, Iruka. I understand your concerns, and I have someone in mind who can help guide him on his path as a shinobi."
Iruka's posture straightened slightly at this, his expression brightening.
"However," Sarutobi added, "it will take some time to arrange. Be patient."
Iruka bowed deeply. "Thank you for your consideration, Lord Hokage."
With that, he turned and exited the Hokage's office, leaving Sarutobi to his thoughts.
Stepping into the cool night air, Iruka tilted his head up toward the sky. The moon shone brightly above the village, casting long shadows along the cobbled streets. He let out a slow, relieved breath.
Though his students often teased him for his loud, exasperated outbursts, the truth was that Iruka was a soft-spoken man, prone to overthinking. Summoning the courage to speak to the Hokage on behalf of a student had been no easy feat.
Still…
"I wonder what kind of shinobi Nobuyuki will become."
He smiled to himself as he walked down the main street, blending into the quiet night crowd.
---
A Late-Night Visitor
Unbeknownst to Iruka, Tsuruma Nobuyuki had no idea that his teacher had just gone to speak on his behalf.
At that moment, he was finishing up his nightly training routine, sweat dripping from his forehead as he stretched out his sore muscles. Just as he was about to head inside and wash up, he heard a soft knock on the front door.
Frowning slightly, he turned toward the entrance.
It was already late—far too late for a casual visitor.
Wiping his hands on a towel, Nobuyuki walked to the door and pulled it open.
Standing in the moonlight was a middle-aged woman, her face lined with exhaustion, yet her posture rigid with unease.
He hesitated for a moment before recognizing her.
"Aunt Nojima?"
His voice carried a hint of surprise. She was from one of the neighboring households, part of the small community that had formed in their part of the village.
She held a bundle wrapped in black cloth, clutching it tightly as if it contained something precious.
Though Nobuyuki stepped aside to let her in, she hesitated for a moment before finally crossing the threshold.
As she passed, he noted the way her hands trembled slightly, how her eyes darted nervously around the room.
Something was off.
Silently, Nobuyuki followed her into the living area, where his mother, Ryoko, was already waiting.
If this had been any other visit, he might have left the room to let the two women talk. But tonight, something told him to stay.
Aunt Nojima sat down stiffly, gripping the bundle in her lap. She shifted uncomfortably, opening her mouth as if to speak, only to close it again.
Several moments of awkward silence passed before she finally lowered her head and spoke in a low, respectful tone:
"Nobuyuki-kun, last week, Ryoko taught our family the method of cultivating mushrooms."
She paused, her grip tightening around the bundle.
"Today, the first batch has sprouted, and a restaurant owner has already placed an order. He even paid a deposit, promising to continue purchasing from us in the future."
Nobuyuki blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
"That was fast."
Aunt Nojima continued, her voice thick with emotion.
"This… this has saved our family. Because of you, our financial situation has stabilized."
She took a deep breath before pushing the bundle forward with both hands, her head still bowed.
"My husband—he believes he will never be able to repay you for this kindness. He has nothing left to give… except this. Please accept it."
Nobuyuki stared at the bundle, then at Aunt Nojima's deeply bowed head.
The whole exchange felt… too formal.
He had only helped because it seemed natural—neighbors supporting each other. He hadn't expected anything in return.
But before he could refuse, he felt a gentle tug at his sleeve.
Ryoko.
She gave him a small, knowing smile, silently encouraging him to accept the gift.
Understanding dawned on him.
Pride.
The Nojima family was one of many in Konoha who had suffered losses during past conflicts. Nojima himself had once been a promising shinobi, but an injury had left him permanently disabled.
For a once-capable ninja to accept help from a younger generation must have felt like swallowing shards of glass. This gift wasn't just a show of gratitude—it was a way for Nojima to reclaim some of his dignity.
With newfound respect, Nobuyuki reached out and accepted the bundle.
Aunt Nojima immediately exhaled, her entire body seeming to relax as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
After offering a few final words of thanks, she stood, bowed one last time, and hurried out into the night.
As the door closed behind her, Nobuyuki turned to his mother.
She chuckled at his puzzled expression.
"They're a proud family," Ryoko explained. "Nojima may not be a shinobi anymore, but he still carries the heart of one. Accepting charity would have been unbearable for him. This was his way of showing gratitude on his own terms."
Nobuyuki hummed thoughtfully, then looked down at the bundle.
"What did he give me?"
Carefully, he unwrapped the black cloth.
The first thing he saw was a polished scabbard, the dark wood gleaming under the lantern's glow. Beside it lay a thin, aged book.
A sword and a manual.
Ryoko gently ran her fingers over the cloth, murmuring, "The wrapping itself is high quality… Whatever is inside must have been something precious to him."
Nobuyuki unsheathed the blade, and a cold, silvery light flashed across the room.
He ran a finger along the edge, testing its sharpness. It was leagues better than the standard-issue kunai sold at the ninja tool shops.
"A good sword," he muttered appreciatively.
Turning his attention to the book, he flipped open the cover. The first page contained a short handwritten note from Nojima himself.
"This sword was acquired during a mission. Though my body failed me, I hope it will serve you well."
The contents of the book, however, were… underwhelming.
Simple, basic sword forms. Nothing groundbreaking.
Nobuyuki exhaled through his nose, tilting his head.
"Basic movements, huh…?"
As a shinobi, swordsmanship wasn't exactly a priority for him. Compared to ninjutsu or even taijutsu, kenjutsu had severe limitations, especially in the later stages of a shinobi's career.
Still…
A faint smirk crossed his lips.
"I do have the system."
If he could accumulate enough experience and refine these techniques, perhaps he could push them beyond their limitations.
At the very least, it wouldn't hurt to experiment.
Sheathing the sword, Nobuyuki leaned back and smiled.
"Well… guess I've got a new toy to play with."
Ryoko laughed softly. "Just don't go cutting up the furniture."
He rolled his eyes. "No promises."
With that, he carefully placed the book and sword beside his bed, ready to begin a new chapter in his training.
The Nojima family had been saved. And now, Tsuruma Nobuyuki had a new path to explore.
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