Naruto Saigen Roleplay

The day had finally come. Toya was now a genin, much to his parents’ delight and his therapist’s worry. She’d been against his enrollment at the academy but never expressed it to Toya for obvious reasons. The boy could feel her growing fear around him whenever he’d show a new concept he learned at the academy. To her, his growing power meant potential disaster. To his parents, they’d birthed a little boy wonder. The only reason they made Toya keep going was because of his insistence. He found her amusing in his own way. She cared about him, but he couldn’t figure out why. His parents couldn’t tell who he was and yet here was a stranger that did! It was almost like she’d become his mother in a certain way. In the end, each session with the doctor was like a mental game of chess. The insight he gained from her was, at times, of extreme value. He’d never explicitly come clean with his intentions, but find ways in which the sweet veil of dis-ingenuity coated his evils.

The boy sat opposite to her on a spacious couch from which his short legs dangled. In his hands, he patiently folded a piece of paper while the doctor observed him. Beside him was a black headband that the academy had gifted him upon achieving the rank of genin. The test had been mundane, and he was thoroughly disappointed. The headband also made his head itch so he would have to discover some different way to wear it since it was, apparently, mandatory. It made little to no sense to Toya, broadcasting your allegiance and what not, but he was a child with a specific mindset. If something seemed silly to him, it meant he hadn’t yet seen its value, which could change at any moment. This mindset made it very difficult for him to make genuine friends since most kids his age, shinobi included, could not grasp the subject nature of reality, ideas, concepts, etc. Even the genin test might someday show itself as valuable to him, but for the moment, his little brain just couldn’t quite wrap itself around it!

“Congratulations, Toya.” The therapist cheered while sorting through files. She’d long ago forfeited taking notes on the boy’s behavior. Nothing worth noting ever bubbled up to the surface for her to jot down, yet she was always ready for the day he slipped. Like the day he gave her the bloody origami. She conducted sessions between the two informally. “How do you feel now that you’re a genin?” An adult would have a patronizing tone with a child. She did this to evoke emotion out of the boy, who was more or less always mute. She wondered if he did this to make her find creative ways to make him speak. As if he were a special box that needed a unique key to be opened. It’s macabre contents waiting to see daylight. Toya hated the way adults spoke to him, which made life at the academy slightly more tolerable. Becoming a shinobi meant professors treated students like assassins in training. There was no room for coddling and false praise. They culled the weak at the stem and Toya quite enjoyed that environment. Anyway, Toya took the bait. His eyes twitched up from his origami work and focused on Dr. Kusanagi intensely. There was dead silence in the room and they could hear only the laughter of children in other rooms from within the clinic. “I feel swell. Now could I ask you something, Ms. Kusanagi?” He asked in an innocent tone while keeping his glare on her. She could get into his head and he could do the same. There were times at night when she’d woken up from vivid nightmares with those same eyes. “What’s the statistic on gennin death?” He asked, cutting his glare short and returning to his origami. “I’m quite worried about that number. Both for my sake and... Once again, for my sake.” His worry confused Kusanagi. The boy was anything but redundant. “I don’t quite understand your doubt, Toya. Could you help me understand?” She posed feeling a sudden urge to pull out her notepad. The boy shook his small legs idly from the couch as he drafted up a response that would satisfy him. “Well, I’m worried I might die, which might sound obvious, but mainly I’m worried I might die because of the others.” He stated before continuing. “Our present shinobi system seems to emphasize ‘teamwork’ and ‘comradery’. While I can understand the value in such a system, I have no faith at all in my peers.” He concluded both his sentence and the origami he’d been working on. A fat bird resembling a penguin he’d read about in a book. A flightless bird now that was a sight to see.

The question Toya posed to his therapist came from a place of honesty. Another child asking the same question would’ve been answered with condescension. Are you having trouble making friends? Did you get into a fight with your classmates? Did you not like your new squad? Do you think you’re smarter than them? These are but a few questions a child could respond to reveal the true motive for their question. Toya, however, was not a normal child. A deep desire for quantifiable knowledge, not projection, spurred his questions. Toya hadn’t been a part of a single incident with his peers at the academy and was popular among the girls. Boys were wary of him initially, but he could emulate their demeanor easily enough. His weak frame would make him an easy target for bullies, but they lacked a fundamental quality that Toya did not. Bloodlust without an ounce of remorse. In the age of steel, physical strength meant little. He just really want to know how the current shinobi system was alive considering the idiots that filled it.

After a brief moment of silence, Dr. Kusanagi got up from her desk and walked towards her patient, her heels clicking with each step, and sat down next to Toya. She picked up his headband and observed it for a moment of introspection. “The shinobi world is complex, Toya. It’s full of characters and players that I’m not aware of because of my civilian status. But this feeling you have of uncertainty and doubt about those around you will follow you wherever you go. Whether you’re a fry cook, a janitor, a teacher, or Kazekage, you will find yourself surrounded by those that are seemingly there by chance.” She reflected on what she was saying. The wrong words and she might make the boy socially averse and it’s a given he’s socially intelligent. “But it’s lazy to dismiss them as useless. You’re choosing to not see their potential value. Like you, they are all at the beginning of their journey as shinobi, and trust me when I say this, a day will come when you meet someone on the same level as you or higher. When that day comes, do not let your disdain for those around you blind you. Always assume they’re hiding their true potential. Otherwise, I have no doubt you will be another gennin death statistic.” Her words echoed in his head as he took the headband from her hands. Only time would tell if they held any weight, although Toya had begun to see a pattern of objective truths in what the doctor told him.

Suddenly, Toya’s eyes came to life, and he jumped from the couch. “I must show you a Jutsu!” Before Dr. Kusanagi had any time to contest this idea, Toya began performing hand seals which were completely foreign to her. An innocuous whistle followed this. At first, nothing. The therapist wondered if the boy was truly as proficient at the academy as he said he was. Then the shadows in the corner of her eyes started moving. “What?” Her heart began racing as clear signs of a schizophrenic breakdown were occurring. The doctor’s eyes were glued to the boy, who seemed to enjoy himself with a twisted grin on his face while he continued to make another set of seals. “Boom.” He announced before snapping his fingers. This time an explosion outside of the room. Now her panic had doubled. She quickly rushed to the door, thinking about the children. What had she done? Yet the moment she opened the door and was met with the face of Toya’s mother, ready to pick her son up, everything returned to normal. “Is everything ok Doctor?” Kokoro asked, confused why her son’s therapist was sweating, pale, and panting. Looking over her shoulder, Kokoro found her son wearing the headband with a big smile on his face. “Hey, mom!” He announced innocently. “There’s no explosion? Everything is alright outside?” The doctor asked, still trying to grasp what happened. Kokoro lifted a brow and called for her son. “Yeah? Well, we have to go. Say bye to Ms. Kusanagi, Toya.” She instructed before leaving with him. “Byyyyye~” Toya waved goodbye to his favorite therapist.

On their way home, Kokoro looked down at her child and asked, “Toya, why was Dr. Kusanagi acting so strange when I came to pick you up?” She asked innocently. Toya, in his guise, pondered with an aloof expression. “Hmmm. I think she’s just been through a lot lately, mom. Being a therapist must be stressful.” He conjectured.


Word Count:1,576

Toya dreamed of nothing. His mind found a temporary oasis of peace that night. A violent shake would violate that peace. Reality quickly assaulted the senses as air rushed into Toya’s lung and his eyes took it all in. Toya’s father was the perpetrator and if it weren’t for his higher rank of skill, Toya might’ve just killed him there and then. “Morning, champ. Get ready. We’re gonna work on your taijutsu today!” He announced with a big smile on his face. The man was the spitting image of Toya or vice versa, depending on how the reader views it. The white hair and apathetic gaze were trademarks of his clan. His father, however, possessed a body much different from his own. His height and muscles were something Toya assumed he’d never develop, no matter how much his mother insisted. This didn’t bother him. Being like his father wasn’t a desire. Toya took after the feminine qualities from his mother and saw potential in what that offered. The boy didn’t move in reaction to his father’s words and simply stared at the wall. His father’s smile quickly faded into frustration. He’d pick the boy up like a rag doll and chuck the boy out of the second-story window. Toya shouted in panic before hitting the ground. The pain wasn’t the end of the world, but because of his weak frame, he’d feel sore for a wonderful week. “Let’s get to work!” His father shouted from the window above with the happiness back on his face. If Toya played his cards right, he might’ve been able to kill the man in his sleep.

Toya’s father was an odd figure in his life. Low aspirations yet an undeniably efficient shinobi. Dull at times and at others, the deepest man he knew. His temper was also a point of friction between the two. Without his mother nearby, the man was ruthless and showed little regard for the boy’s well being. This was, of course, the boy’s childish perception of his father’s treatment. His father was instilling in him pain so that he understood it and overcame it. Being his father meant nothing while they were training, otherwise it would all be mute. The world would show no mercy to Toya, so he would not show any either. His mother surely wouldn’t do so. It fell on his unfortunate soldiers to carry that infantile hatred.

The two arrived at a nearby dojo that hosted a few others sparring and practicing a variety of things. The two kept to themselves, as his father wasn’t a famous shinobi. Some ninjas within sunagakure were so popular they could barely go anywhere public. Toya appreciated that aspect of his father’s under achieving nature. Toya’s father began, “Alright, kid. Here’s the deal. You’re kinda lame when it comes to physical performance. I’ve read through your academy records and talked to your teachers and they all confirm this.” Toya felt offended by the sudden display of attention to his academic life. “Don’t get pissy. Your records also show an aptitude for genjutsu which I’m not proficient at. What I’m saying is shinobi come in different shapes and sizes. We can practice all we want, but I can’t turn you into a taijutsu master, kid. You either got it or you got it and you don’t. Your bones are weak and your movement is sluggish. I’m not trying to be mean, I’m just giving you the facts. You can live your whole life hating me for it or man up and find a way around it.” He spoke relentlessly, and with each sentence, Toya felt his ego evaporating. “So to help you, I’ve mastered some styles that fit your frame, talents and intellect.” He concluded, the last words leaving the humiliated boy suddenly feeling confused. “You did what?” Toya asked in shock. “Yeah, I can’t teach you techniques that’ll kill you. Your mother would kill me, so I took the time and read up on a few styles that’ll give you something to do when your fancy genjutsu blow up in your face. You ready?” He asked, to which Toya nodded.

Mr. Takahashi circled young Toya with his hands behind his back. “Genjutsu affects the mind, which in turn abuses the senses or vice versa. Thinking too much about it makes you crazy. Now what do you do when you go against someone that doesn’t care?” His father asked. Toya thought about his answer and met with a swift kick to the stomach that sent him flying backwards. “In a fight, you won’t have time to think about an answer. Your genjutsu fails and you don’t have a backup. You’re dead. Get up.” He ordered the boy. Toya was getting angry, but his face hid his emotions well. “You put someone in an illusion and they think their guts are spilling out. What if they’re nuts? What if you’re fighting a mad demon that’s made his peace with death and seeing you die is the only thing keeping him going?” Another attack followed the questions, this time in the form of a punch that was too fast for Toya to block completely. Now Toya staggered to the side instead of falling. “I’m going to teach you what to do when you find yourself in those 1 in a million scenarios, because I have faith in your intellect and genjutsu. But it’s those moments that define you as a ninja.” His father’s words left a deep impression on the boy who, before that day, sought no real advice from the man. It would serve as a bonding experience that the boy wouldn’t realize until much later in life.

“First style we’re going to focus on is called Kugapou. It’s centered on evasion from a variety of different techniques. From hand to hand all the way to shit being thrown at you. We’re going to work on your core later to get that muscle mass up before I go teaching you anything too crazy. For now, it’s all about defense. You fucked up your genjutsu, the opponent doesn’t give a shit. Whoops, time to evade.” His father would get into a general stance after talking and perform a quick movement with his hands in a loop, which became slower after each repetition. “This is the Soft Paw. I swear I didn’t come up with the name.” His dad laughed, making the anger swell up in Toya once more. “Pull out your kunai and strike me.” He ordered with his hands ready for Toya. The boy quickly pulled a kunai out of his leg pouch and flew in his father’s direction. The speed was subpar, as the man expected, but the lack of resistance or hesitation put him off. If the boy was faster, he might’ve gotten close enough to put a nasty scar on his father’s face. Unfortunately for him, that was not the present fact and his father swiftly deflected the kunai downwards with enough force to make Toya lose his footing. “We’re going to repeat that until you get it right.” His father declared as he picked up the kunai from the ground. There was a small amount of dry blood on it. It wasn’t his own, but the fact didn’t bother him. “That right there was the down paw. We’re not working on it for now. Today you’ll just learn how to redirect the blade, got it?” He asked, putting his right hand on Toya’s shoulder. The boy nodded, getting ready to block his father’s advance. With the kunai back in his grip, the boy advanced.

After about half an hour of the exercise, Toya’s father would tell the boy, “that’s enough for now. Train that hand movement whenever your hands are idle.” Toya nodded as his father began stretching his legs. “Great, now try to hit me where it hurts.” He instructed while continuing the stretch. Toya advanced without hesitation and his father would move ever so slightly to the left, narrowly avoid the strike. “Slight dodge.” The father explained. “Unlike Soft Paw, you didn’t pay attention and now using your hand to avoid the strike isn’t an option. You’re in the shit now. You’ve got 0.5 seconds to dodge and you know you won’t be able to dodge, but god help you, you won’t allow the opponent to kill you. With your speed, I completely dodged it. With my speed, you’d get grazed. Understand?” Toya nodded once again, completely enthralled by his father’s teaching method. The pain was almost sweet at that point. “Use the pain to increase your speed. Don’t think and let your body take over.” With that said, Toya’s father gave the boy another roundhouse kick, this time in the center of his chest. The boy flew back, feeling the air in his body abandon him. Either he learned how to dodge or this would be his future. The boy got back up and tried again. After another half hour of this exchange, Toya’s father called it a day and the two prepared themselves to leave. While they changed into clean clothes, his father gave him a friendly slap on the back. “You did good today, kid, but next time I wake you up you better wake up haha.” He teased and Toya’s disdain for the man came back, overwhelming any newfound feeling of respect and admiration.

Toya would arrive home without his father. The chuunin had his own business to attend to and parted ways with his son. Alone then, Toya considered spending the day with his homeless friends, but his hour long beating had taken out any desire in him for social interactions. He needed a rest before heading over there to learn more about their fascinating and harsh world. There was also the matter of the girl who apparently knew all about him and dreamed of him. That situation needed a conclusion immediately. Alone in his home, Toya enjoyed the silence while observing its mute details before going to his room. Among his many books and scrolls, he found one in particular he’d bought from a merchant on a visit to Konohagakure with his mother when he was 7. Its title was, “Medicinal Arts for Dummies.” As the title implied, it was a summarized educational guide on medicinal practices. Toya wanted it because of his childhood desire to become a doctor and ‘save lives’. A neat lie to make himself seem like a virtuous child. Upon inspection, the book realized it would never substitute medicinal jutsu and its many complexities, but would give Toya some useful knowledge of healing his ailments. This had added value given the fact that his father seemed hell bent on beating the boy senseless. Its introduction explained the purpose, utilities and cons the book would deliver. The book was, as Toya imagined, a condensed handbook to informal medical practice. Aid to combat and actual aid were some utilities included in the book. The cons address the comprehensive summary of the book. Learning all of its contents would not compensate for ignorance in the medical jutsu field. “As long as I figure out how to deal with this pain, I don’t care.” Toya grumbled to himself as he massaged a sore spot on his shoulder.

Chapter one began with basic instructions on how to treat and wrap wounds. Toya had no desire at that present moment to learn such things, although their value wasn’t dismissed. He just needed something more useful. If his father started cutting him up and breaking his bones, he’d go back to those sections. The second chapter went into considerable depth on patient assessment. Using his own body as a patient, Toya made his way to his parents’ bedroom to use their human sized mirror to observe his body. He’d begin by removing his shirt, revealing the bony physique of an 11-year-old boy. Bruises peppered in several areas. His old man had gone to town for sure, but Toya would not waste time holding it against him. Toya would be more upset if the man treated him like a child. From the book, Toya learned the nature of bruises which consisted of blood vessels becoming ruptured without a cut to exit from. Essentially, symptoms of blunt force trauma. Tips and different methods for speeding the healing process and minimize the visibility of the bruises were given. Toya could not quite understand if he should apply heat or ice. The bruises were still fresh and not too visible, which, if the book was to be followed, applying heat was the ideal procedure. Toya searched his home for some towels and placed them on the kitchen sink. A pan filled with water was set to boil on the stove while he continued his read through the book. The next chapter went into a brief introduction on pressure points. Toya found great interest in this topic. Pressure points, if known in detail, could cripple an enemy in battle when used offensively. A picture of the human anatomy split in half, with one half revealing the skeletal structure, showed the many vital points within the human body. He’d remember the boiling water and place the towels within it for about 5 seconds. After turning off the stove, Toya would let them cool down from hot to warm and place them on parts of his body that felt particularly sore. While he did this and the warmth soothed his body, thoughts of the girl from the temple poked his mind. At first, he wanted to kill her to rid himself of an enormous leak in his privacy. But the comfort of someone knowing who he really was chipped away at his paranoia. Maybe he’d kill her so the intruding stops would stop. It was all too much for the boy to deal with.

Toya returned to his reading and dove deeper into the intricacies of the human pressure points. The book made a note to explain that they did not relate these to the tenketsu points which, if pressured, would block the efficient chakra flow within the body. Pressure points, commonly used in massages and acupuncture, with several benefits other than reducing blood flow in case of hemorrhaging, are the energy variant of tenketsu points. As a matter of fact, the boy found use in studying them to help ease the pain from the bruises his father gave him. After spending an hour memorizing each specific point, Toya wanted to test the legitimacy of their properties. Pulling out a knife from the kitchen drawer, Toya was just about to cut into his skin and attempt to slow the blood flow when his mother came home. Her eyes widened in shock and before he had the time to think, she took the knife away from his grasp. “Mom, I was just-.” He began explaining before she cut him off. Her panicked eyes wouldn’t relax even as she held the knife. The scene had truly affected her. “What were you doing, baby?” She asked him, visibly shaking. Toya realized she wasn’t acting normally, which was probably because of her trauma from seeing him before in his first incident. “I’m studying pressure points and wanted to see if I could slow down the blood flow, mom. Now please calm down, you’re scaring me.” He coated his words with childish manipulation. Slowly, her mind accepted the narrative and forget the past. It was the past, and she was in the present, of course. Toya was a normal boy who was simply studying. “How silly of me.” She said before putting the knife in the sink. “I. I don’t know what came over me, haha.” She laughed, holding back tears. Next, she began putting together the entire scene. Her son was covered in bruises and towels. “Did your father do this?” She asked with a sudden mood swing. The boy kept quiet. There was no right answer.

In his room, he read more in the candle light. The moonlight was also marvelous on that night. Downstairs, his mother and father argued ceaselessly. There was a clear divergence in parenting styles, and discordant opinions were manifesting. The boy wondered if their love for each other would prevail over the friction. Soon they began arguing over the apparent lacking in different aspects of their relationship. Toya marked the pressure points on the front-side of his body with a marker. In his underwear he’d sit himself in a crossed leg position and make two inch cuts below a pressure point, hold it for a moment and observe the change in the flow of blood. He’d repeat this process until he found himself satisfied with the observable results. In the end, he’d just slap several bandages on the cuts. They quickly become saturated with blood and he’d have to remove them to place another. Suddenly, skipping the chapter on bandage wrapping felt rash. Tossing the book aside, Toya would prepare himself for bed as the yelling from below stopped. His mother would tire out his father no matter what argument he used to beat the boy. Toya couldn’t understand her reaction. Perhaps it was some trauma from her own childhood that made it difficult for her to accept a father beating his son in a training context. Yet she was a shinobi and did not behave as such. If it weren’t for the fresh cuts into his skin, the boy had half a mind to go downstairs and defend his father, but politically, it was a flawed idea. Being neutral was advantageous. Keeping up the innocent approach would only last for so long, so he’d milk it to the very end.



Word count: 2943