Chapter 10
A month after asking, the instructor stopped me after class and presented me with a gottan with a slightly thicker than average neck that I could sheath my sword into. I strapped it onto my back at an angle so that I could reach back and pull the concealed sword out without dislodging the instrument from my back. Even though it was still a fancy sheath, it was also a functional instrument, and the added variety as I tried to teach myself how to play amused the other kids (there's only so much you can do with makeshift drums).
It had been a long time since I played an instrument and it showed. I had never played a string instrument and it's nothing like playing a piano. With a piano, barring it going out of tune, the same key does the same note and that sound only really changes if you change how quickly you hit it or how many other keys you hit at the same time. With a bottan, or really long necked three string guitar, the sound changed with every slight change of pressure on the same string, based on how tight it was or how hard you pressed it. As such, it took practice. A lot of practice.
But it didn't matter how hard it was to learn how to play, because it was something I could learn, a skill that had nothing to do with hurting or tricking people. Also, it was really the first decision I'd had made for myself in a long time.
There wasn't anything that resembled real choice for the ninja of Kirigakure. If you were an orphan especially, since you had really only two choices: live in the orphanage, then the academy, or live in the streets and very likely starve. And it happens in every year, including ours. In this case it was one person after the first set of advanced classes. Wataru from the Taijutsu standard class never came back after the first class. After he got a taste of what awaited them in the world he ran and they didn't stop him because even if he left the village, even if he tried to run to another country's borders, all that awaited him when he got out of the mountains was the open sea. So really, when it came to choices, it was really die there or eventually die in the service of the village. Orphans weren't the only children subjected to this, sometimes poor families would willingly give their children into service as a way to give them a better life. That said something about the condition of the rest of the country when, between being poor or being a child soldier, the child soldier was the lesser evil.
It also didn't help that once you were in the academy everything you did was closely monitored and regulated. They controlled our diet, our sleeping arrangements, our schedules, what we wore and what adults we could talk to. We had no toys but those that we could make. No books except those that preached the propaganda of the village or those pertaining to advancing our arts. Our time was to be spent either training to be a ninja or resting. It was militant and utilitarian to an extreme and because of that, the children were starved for entertainment to the extreme.
So it wasn't a surprise that when I got my instrument and began to practice I was joined by other people. They'd bug me for songs to sing or make up their own. Several more bowls were stolen from the kitchen and old torn shirts tied to the top to make more drums. As well as a platter that was banged as a makeshift cymbal that one rather enthusiastic person liked to hit. We weren't organized enough to have anything resembling a beat line. Though occasionally I would try to direct them for simpler songs, it usually devolved into chaos, random batting and giggling rather quickly.
And that was okay.
The first year had been exhausting for most of us but, now that our bodies had gotten used to the training, we had excess energy and having something constructive to focus on kept spirits high even as the classes got harder.
Kenjutsu training quickly went from weighted practicing to sword drawing techniques to one on one battles, which taught me three things. One, wooden swords really really hurt. Two, when your sword is two feet long, it isn't great for blocking anything longer than three feet long and swung by a larger opponent. Then three, the age difference greatly affected my durability compared to the other students, because during the second class we did one on one fighting, my opponent, a boy from an older class with a katana, broke my arm.
Pain hadn't been a stranger to me in my training. My feet and hands were well calloused, and my tolerance for falling and exhaustion had increased exponentially just from experience. But the deep burning and aching of the crack when that sword hit my extended forearm sent me into tears and very loud violent crying. I'm not sure if I blacked out from the pain or if the teacher just knocked me out to put me out of my misery.
I woke up in the infirmary several hours later. I was told that it was a clean break but I'd need to keep the arm in a sling for a week so it could properly set. Which was super funtastic for two reasons: one, because it had been my dominant hand that had the break. Two, because they still expected me to attend class like normal.
It kind of makes me wonder what they would have done if I'd broken a leg.
The rest of the class looked at me with pity. Kiriko was going to yell at them for making me keep going, but I stopped her because I didn't want her to get beaten as an example. Again.
Most the classes were fine one handed. The Kenjutsu teacher I think took pity on me and didn't make me fight anybody while injured. Instead, he had me do speed drills and forms with my off hand because, well, if my dominant hand got injured in a fight it wasn't like I could stop fighting.
The worst thing was that I couldn't practice my bottan or write music.
Even if it was something I had only recently started to do, I still craved the stimulation it gave.
I tried to read through some of the textbooks, but it was all such slighted tripe that I couldn't stand it. I went to bed early and woke up even earlier because of that. Crawling out of bed I poked Chōjurō awake and he blinked at me for a few seconds before he adjusted himself. He turned to me and whispered,
"Oh, Ume-san"
He looked at the clock on the wall then at me and hesitated.
"Um, maybe you shouldn't train with me today, because, you know."
He turned away from me for a second, which meant he probably missed me rolling my eyes. I didn't scold him for it there, I just pulled him along out of the barracks. Once we were outside I unsheathed my sword with my left hand.
"Here, I'll do the exercises sensei gave me for my off hand."
I adjusted my sling, slid into my stance and started to go into the form. I sometimes fell out of the rhythm just from unfamiliarity, it was hard to do it with my off hand, but I righted myself quickly and we went through our normal paces. My struggling to keep steady wasn't unnoticed and when we got to the end Chōjurō stopped me before we started to head back.
"Um, Ume-san, do you think..."
He trailed off.
"What?"
I looked him in the eye, he turned away again not wanting to meet my gaze.
He breathed in deeply and let it out before proceeding.
"You think maybe, maybe you should ask the instructor if you could,"
He lowered his voice and I leaned in to listen,
"You could go back to the basic swords course?"
I pulled back and looked at him, honestly surprised and it showing.
"What?"
He hesitated again before sitting down.
"I mean, you're..."
"I'm what? Too weak? Too slow? Do you think my form's sloppy? Do I need to adjust my stance again do I..."
"You're so small!"
He blurted out, eyes wide, as he looked at me, and I looked back. I didn't have a reply for that.
"You should, should not be here. You're too young. Why did they..."
I sat next to him and we sat in silence for a few minutes.
"I'd never heard anybody scream like that before."
I looked at him for a few moments. He was the only person in the barracks that had been there when it happened.
"I'm okay, it was the shock more than anything. I'd never really broken a bone before."
He let out a breath.
"What if that happens again? All the other kids are bigger than you. Their swords..."
He turned back to his own sword, it was at least twice the length of mine. He had been toting it for weeks now, and I didn't have any doubt that even if I could manage to pick it up I definitely couldn't swing it. Lots of the students had grabbed swords with a much longer reach that were good for slashing or, in this case, bludgeoning, since they had no edge. That's why he was so worried.
"I'm here because I asked them to put me here."
He turned his head to me for a few seconds.
"I had a choice, I could have stayed at the orphanage for three more years and then probably be taken here, but I wanted to come here now."
Letting out another breath he said in a quiet voice,
"Why?"
I turned towards the horizon.
"Because unlike the others, I understand what a ninja life is. They spent the entire first year trying to convince us that fighting for the sake of the village, for our country and the families was glorious. But that's absolute shit."
He reeled back a little surprised at the curse. Well, I suppose it's not exactly the type of thing you heard from a six year old girl.
"There's nothing glorious about dying, and that's what they're preparing us to do. Sure, they're training us to fight, even fight well, but I don't think they expect most of us to live. It's why they are separating us already, trying to groom anybody they think might be able to become great ninja and everybody else they're giving what is considered the basic course. So they can be the foot soldiers that they can throw away while they set up members of the founding families to make the decisive blow and take the glory."
He looked at me, stunned as he absorbed the information. But he seemed to comprehend what I was saying. It matched up with everything we'd been taught in ninja history. If you read between the lines, every major victory by Kirigakure was only accomplished with massive casualties from what was considered it's lesser ninjas. You had to really listen to catch it, as the numbers were usually mentioned off hand, with the real focus being the so called battle accomplishments of the members of the founding families. He sat there for a few moments.
"If you know, why did you come here?"
I pulled my knees up to my chest.
"To protect my friends."
Originally it was just Kiriko, but truthfully, if I could I would try to protect my entire class. This universe was harsh, and it was probably impossible, but they never chose this life, they didn't deserve to die for this village.
"But you're, you're..."
He stuttered it out.
"Small, yeah, you said it, and younger. But I get it. But I also get that, even if none of us was born, this world was at war not too long ago. We may be at peace now, but who knows how long that'll last. Ninjas are soldiers and they're preparing us for war."
The Fourth Shinobi War, if we survived that long we'd probably all be a part of that. Maybe I could do something to prevent or delay it, but there were so many things that were already in motion, and people I couldn't actually stop. I might not be able to save this world from the war, hell I might not be able to help Kirigakure. There would be some changes in a few years that have to happen regardless of what the consequences might be, because us staying under the forth Mizukage's control would probably make things all the worse.
I stood up and stretched out a hand to him.
"So no, I don't think I should go to the basic course. I have to be ready, we all have to be. If we're going to survive this world, if we're going to survive another war, if and when it comes, then we need to go as far as we can. I'm here, I can learn, I can fight and I can protect them. Maybe not all of them, but I have to try."
He looked at me, the little girl with dark red hair declaring something like that. How strange that must have been to hear from someone younger than him, but he whispered to himself.
"To protect someone."
He grabbed my hand to pull himself up and we both headed back to the barracks.
That night, to help with my boredom I decided to do some sword exercises with my off hand. We weren't allowed out of the barracks at night so I had to clear some space in the room, which put me somewhere in the center. Most people didn't comment, just watched me step through the forms. Though after a few minutes I started to hear beating with each one of my steps. I immediately turned towards the beating to see Gonmaru and Enji putting away two drums behind their backs. I pretended not to notice and started my practice form again. They started beating the drum and I turned again but they hid it. The other kids started giggling once I did. We continued this game and they kept the beat with my steps well, even when I started to move more quickly or more slowly. Midway through a change in stance, I turned and pointed my sword at them. They were unable to get the drums away fast enough, and everyone burst into laughter.
We played that particular game every night that week, and I was a little worried that the laughter was too loud. It wasn't until a few weeks later that I noticed that on the outside of our barracks' door someone had stuck a seal that had the kanji for silence written on it.