Chapter 81: Souta's Daily Life
The next morning, the sky was still gray with a thin fog hanging between the towering apartment buildings.
Souta slowly opened his eyes, the faint sound of small birds chirping in the distance. As Souta yawned widely, he could feel the cold air coming in through the small window of his apartment.
The sandy floor felt somewhat cold as Souta's feet touched it. The shy morning light filtered through the dull curtains, creating a faint pattern on the dusty floor.
With heavy steps, Souta walked to the small bathroom, where the scent of soap had begun to fade. Cold water flowed vigorously over Souta's face, washing away the lingering drowsiness.
A drop of water dripped from Souta's wet hair onto his shoulder, refreshing despite the slightly stuffy air in the room.
After finishing, Souta dried his face with a thin towel, then took the clothes he had prepared from the closet—a loose dark t-shirt and slightly worn but clean pants.
Souta put on the clothes with practiced movements, without much fuss.
As Souta opened the bedroom door, Pakura was already standing in the apartment hallway. Pakura's green hair was neatly tied up in a bun on top of her head, adorned with a simple hairpin.
Pakura's eyes were half-closed, giving the impression of still being sleepy, but the slight smile on her lips radiated a gentle warmth. "Good morning, Souta," Pakura's voice was soft and a bit heavy, a sign that she had just woken up.
Souta responded with a light nod. They then walked together down the hallway, which was filled with a mix of the aroma of dry sand and remnants of food from the night before, blending together like a faint memory lingering in the air.
Each of their steps echoed softly against the concrete walls, accompanied by the lively sounds of Sunagakure village coming to life: vendors opening their stalls, the sound of vehicles, and the chatter of children heading to school.
In the middle of the path, around the corner, appeared Makima. Makima's long red hair was loosely braided, with neat bangs covering her forehead. The dark jacket she wore contrasted with her pale skin, adding to her mysterious aura.
Makima's sharp eyes radiated curiosity but remained calm like the surface of a deep, tranquil lake. "You guys are leaving early," Makima said softly, with genuine interest.
The three of them walked side by side, passing through narrow alleys filled with old posters and murals. The aroma of coffee and toast from small cafes wafted into their noses, leaving a warm sensation that contrasted with the cold morning air.
Makima began to ask about Souta and Pakura's work as cleaners at the Puppet Arts Performance Theater. Her questions were not too direct, more like a subtle inquiry.
Souta and Pakura answered carefully, sharing ordinary details without revealing too many secrets.
Makima occasionally smiled slightly, as if she sensed that Pakura was hiding something behind her gaze.
Their conversation flowed smoothly, filled with mutual respect and a hint of unspoken curiosity.
When they arrived at the Ninja Academy, the atmosphere changed drastically. The sound of trainers shouting instructions, the thud of students running, and the smell of sweat filled the air.
Souta's eyes sparkled as he realized this was the place where he trained and honed his skills. They studied hard, from basic techniques, tirelessly until three in the afternoon. Sweat soaked their foreheads, and tense muscles signaled their struggle.
After the bell rang for dismissal, instead of heading straight home, Souta and Pakura chose to follow Makima as she walked toward her house. The evening streets began to change color, the sky turning red with warm golden-orange hues, as if gently closing the day.
The warm air mixed with the aroma of sand and smoke from the chimneys of neighboring houses.
...
Chapter 82: Souta's Daily Life 2
They stopped at a small stall to buy food—satay, stuffed bread, and warm tea.
The vendor's friendly voice offered their goods, and the laughter of children playing made the atmosphere feel lively and warm.
After their food was wrapped up, they continued their journey to the Theater Building. The structure stood strong, though its wood was old and rotting with time, it still radiated a mystical aura and deep history, as if it held old stories in every fiber.
At the door, Souta and Pakura parted ways with Makima. Makima walked home, while Souta and Pakura stepped inside the building.
Upon entering, they were greeted by the aroma of dust, old wood, and peeling paint. The hanging lights swayed gently, reflecting warm light onto the wooden floor, which was marked with traces of footsteps, as if welcoming the remnants of the past that still lived there.
Souta and Pakura began their work, cleaning up dust, wood shavings, and scraps of old scripts scattered around. The sound of brooms and cloths scraping against the floor echoed loudly in the quiet hallway.
Their hands moved quickly and deftly, even though their muscles began to feel sore. After three hours of work, break time arrived. They gathered with other cleaners in a small room, sharing food and light stories. The atmosphere, though simple, felt warm, filled with small laughter and tired smiles.
The work continued until after eight in the evening, when the time to go home finally arrived. They parted ways, returning to their respective apartments with tired bodies but hearts full of hope.
...
...
...
Days passed quickly, and now it had been over a month since Souta began his new routine. Souta was increasingly focused on his work, not only because of the much-needed salary but also because he knew that behind the curtain, there was a secret he wanted to master—Kugutsu no Jutsu.
On every occasion, Souta would sneakily observe the puppet masters skillfully maneuvering puppets with fine chakra threads.
The dim light of the stage and the shadows of the wooden puppets swaying created a captivating yet mysterious scene.
Souta felt his heart race every time those threads appeared in the air, as if touching something beyond the physical.
Night after night, after returning from the theater, Souta trained himself. His hands trembled as he tried to form his first chakra thread.
Many times the thread broke or was too short, but Souta never gave up. Until finally, the first thread, five centimeters long, appeared. Short, fragile, but real.
Souta smiled wryly, feeling as if he had conquered a high mountain. Though small, it was a tangible proof of Souta's struggle and progress.
Souta knew that controlling chakra to do ordinary things like walking on walls or jumping high was common, but transforming chakra into threads that could control puppets was an art mastered by only a few.
A mix of pride and emotion welled up within him. Souta envisioned a future where he could move wooden puppets with fine and strong chakra threads, becoming a ninja who not only survived but was also respected.
The night air in Sunagakure enveloped the city with a gentle, piercing cold as Souta gazed at the starry sky from his apartment window.
Outside, the night wind whispered softly through the leaves, and the streetlights flickered gently, adding a magical ambiance to the stillness of the night.
Souta took a deep breath, then closed his eyes. Within his chest, a spirit burned, warm and unwavering. Souta's journey was still long, filled with challenges yet to be seen.
However, with every chakra thread Souta created, his dream slowly began to take shape—one by one, real and inevitable, woven by an unquenchable determination.
________________________
[Note: Over 50 new chapters have just been added! For only $3, you can gain early access to chapters released far ahead of schedule.
Get access to the latest chapters before they appear on Webnovel and Scribblehub—
Just become a patron on Patreon:
Patreon.com/Alex_Fabianoki]