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Shuryō, Mottomō hageshī. A boy of ten years, he were approaching the point in his youth like many children his age, that the need to know and intimately understand the world around him were becoming more and more important. By many standards of those many times his senior, however, Shuryō possessed a curiosity that was said to be uncharacteristically mature for his age. This might had something to do with his lineage but we're surely not helped by the firm doctrines of Kirigakure no sato; made to stain his hands with blood, Shuryō knew mortality, instinctively aware now more than ever before of just how fleeting it all were. Such was the curse of one born to a ninja village.
As he sat; both legs pulled toward his chest, arms wrapped around the knees, staring out into the vast open-space before him, Shuryō recalled his first kill. He could still smell blood and bowel and the distinct stench of fear from a desperate and dying man. Then, like now, Shuryō had choked off any semblance of connection to the man, it were easy to do when he'd never formed any sort of lasting pact with them to begin with. To Shuryō, as was the case in the minds of many candidates to graduate, killing the man had been a means to an end.
That night, however, Shuryō tossed and turned in his sleep. He'd been comforted to the extent that a former Katarite would spare but ultimately, his were a walk that needed to be walked alone. Yudai had actually told Mottomō this. "From today onwards, you are a man; never forget this lesson." His Father, Yudai, would say.
Shuryō would ponder the meaning of his Father's words, finding a certain measure of comfort in being recognized even if it were just to keep his spirits from falling. Young as he were, Shuryō saw his father as a Stern but loving warrior who at times hid things from Shuryō, though what, he could not say. All that Mottomō hageshī knew was that his father never appeared to anger even when a situation all but demanded it. Just as well, his Father always seemed to find an answer to a problem which only made the family respect him more. Still, Mottomō hageshī could see that there was something missing in his Father as though he'd suffered a great hardship and rather than succumb to the boulder of guilt, he wore the ache honorably and with dignity.
Still, Shuryō wished that he could do something about his father's ache just as his Father acted as the band aid to his own problems. He were still youthful enough in his thoughts that an idea persisted that someday he could take on the weight of the family and then, everything would be better. Just as well, there was another more pessimistic thought that perhaps that were just the kind of man his Father was, always Enduring for the sake of his obligations. In the end, it really were hard to say and for now, Shuryō allowed his mind to get lost in the world of imagination not untypical of normal children.
