[Sunday Special - I have Bulk today (3/4)]
[~1400 Words]
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The scent of miso soup and fresh bandages greeted Haruki as he stirred awake. His ribs ached less than yesterday, though his pride still stung from collapsing like a fool in the hallway.
Makino sat by the window, humming faintly as she poured tea into two small cups.
"Good. You're awake," she said gently, setting one beside him. "Don't try to stand again. You barely made it ten steps last night."
Haruki gave a weak grunt, sitting up slowly. "...Thanks. For not yelling."
She gave a soft smile. "You didn't need yelling. You needed grounding."
He accepted the tea, sipping carefully, then paused—eyes drifting to the window.
"How far is it to Konoha from here?"
Makino blinked. "Konoha?"
Haruki turned his head. "Yes. Konohagakure. Village Hidden in the Leaves. How many days does it take to get there from this Dawn Island?"
Her brow furrowed slightly. "I've… never heard of that place."
Haruki's hand tightened slightly around the cup.
Just then, the door creaked open. Mayor Woop Slap entered, adjusting his coat and carrying a folded map.
"Heard you were asking about strange villages."
Makino turned toward him. "Mayor, he asked about a place called 'Konoha'—but it's not on any chart as far as I know."
Woop Slap sat down slowly and placed the map on the table. "No such village in East Blue. Nor any other Blue, as far as I know."
Haruki frowned, silent.
The Mayor looked him over with a shrewd gaze. "Who are you, son?"
Haruki exhaled slowly.
"...A shinobi from Konoha. Under the Land of Fire. I won't harm your village. I swear it."
Makino's eyes widened slightly, but Woop Slap simply gave a thoughtful grunt.
"Well, stranger or not, you're not the first odd one to land in these waters. If you're looking for someone who knows blades or eastern traditions, your best bet is Shimotsuki Village. A few days south of here."
Haruki perked up slightly. "Shimotsuki…?"
Woop Slap nodded. "There's a swordsman there. Used to train samurai or some such. He may or may not know this 'Konoha,' but he might know where you really came from—or how to send word."
Haruki lowered his tea cup, eyes thoughtful now. "Thank you… that's more than I hoped for."
Makino stood, folding her arms gently. "But only once you're strong enough to walk without collapsing again."
Haruki smirked faintly. "Right… nurse's orders."
They shared a quiet moment. Then Haruki turned his gaze out the window once more. His gaze hardened once more.
Shimotsuki Village. A new name. Maybe a new thread…
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The morning sun spilled in faint orange through the window panes of the upstairs room Haruki had been given above the clinic. The scent of salt carried in from the beach below, mixing with the distant chatter of early morning fishermen.
Haruki sat at the edge of his bed, eyes half-lidded in thought.
"You must not let rage guide you."
His father's voice echoed from a memory—his calm warnings on the roof of their home in Konoha. Haruki could still see it: the moonlight, the rooftops, his father's steady presence. The day he finally awakened his Sharingan had been born not from pride—but from pain.
He had seen it.
His own 2-tomoe eyes reflected on the steel of Itachi's blade.
He clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply.
"You can't run forever. You assess. You adapt. You grow."
Haruki rose from the bed, bare feet brushing against the wooden floor. His chakra still hummed faintly beneath the skin, like a fire newly lit and not yet tamed. He needed to test it. To feel the difference now.
He stepped over to the window and pushed it open. The salty breeze kissed his skin as he leaned out slightly.
Across the street, the tavern door was half-open, and a few early risers bustled outside. But what caught his attention was Makino-san—sweeping the front porch with her sleeves rolled up and her hair in a loose bun.
Haruki raised a hand and gave the glass beside him a few taps.
Tap-tap-tap.
Makino looked up, blinking in surprise before spotting him. He motioned her over with a quick wave and a small smile.
She set her broom aside and walked over to the clinic, glancing up as he leaned out.
"Good morning," she said, brushing a loose strand from her cheek. "Did you need something?"
"I want to try something," Haruki said. "Mind coming around the back? I could use your help."
Location: Clinic Backyard
The clinic's backyard sloped gently into a beach-facing clearing—private, shielded by tall trees. The waves murmured in the distance, and a few seagulls wheeled overhead.
Haruki stood barefoot in the grass, his shirt loose and open at the collar, exposing the faint scars along his collarbone. His expression was focused—serious—but calm.
Makino arrived a moment later, wiping her hands on her apron. "You didn't say what you were trying," she said with a raised brow.
Haruki offered a faint grin. "A little fire practice."
Makino blinked. "Wait—fire?"
"I'm… from a place where people like me can manipulate elements," he said slowly, carefully. "Through chakra. It's a kind of life force."
Makino folded her arms, looking intrigued rather than doubtful. "And you're going to do that now?"
Haruki nodded, then turned toward the beach. The wind shifted slightly, tugging at his sleeves.
He breathed in, deep and slow.
The hand signs came back to him naturally.
Tiger → Horse → Boar → Ram → Snake
`Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!´ (Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique)
A ball of fire exploded from his lips, roaring into the air with searing force before dissipating over the sea. The flames didn't scatter—they shaped, held tight and clean, glowing in a perfect arc.
Makino stumbled a step back, her eyes wide.
"What… that was…!"
Haruki turned his head slightly, a light sheen of sweat on his brow. "Stronger than before," he muttered to himself, satisfied.
Makino stared at him. "You weren't kidding. That was real fire. You made that with your hands."
He looked at his hands, flexing them briefly. "Yeah. I think I've… unlocked something new recently. A sort of… advanced state of my Clan. It's hard to explain."
Makino stepped closer again, her voice gentler now. "You're not from anywhere I've ever heard of, are you?"
Haruki smiled faintly. "No. I'm not."
She tilted her head. "Then where did you come from?"
He looked out to the sea, his tone soft but distant.
"A village hidden in the leaves… where people like me lived with this kind of power. My clan was one of the strongest. But..."
He paused.
"They're gone now. I am sure of it."
Makino didn't pry further, sensing the weight in his voice. She stepped beside him instead, both of them staring out at the ocean for a long moment.
"You know," she said quietly, "you don't speak like a drifter or a pirate. Mayor was afraid you were a Pirate, but I could feel you were different. And I am right, You speak like someone trying to protect something."
Haruki's gaze sharpened slightly. "That's because I am."
She smiled, brushing her windblown hair back. "Well, if you ever need someone to cheer you on while you make fireballs at the beach, you know where to find me."
Haruki chuckled softly, glancing at her sideways. "You're braver than most, Makino-san."
Makino grinned. "Only when you're not aiming the fire at me."
They both laughed lightly. For the first time since arriving in this strange world, Haruki felt something familiar—a connection, not just Anger or Fear, Not just Hatred at Itachi.
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