Prologue - The Makijiku Clan
In our second year at the academy the load increased, but it wasn't difficult for me. For the physical aspect of training, young children run around a lot anyway. The difference was we did obstacle courses outside that involved climbing rope nets strewn over a high post. Sensei helped us with stances, then refined our strikes and kicks. We were taught how to handle basic weapons: the grip, moving your arms and a forward stab. Some kids in the class started crying at the thought of doing this in real-life, so I felt some relief that I wasn't the only one worried. Tatomi-sensei wasn't having it.
"What is Rule 25 of being a ninja?" He asked a weeping boy who was unable to answer. "A shinobi must never show their tears during a mission."
With an arm resting on his knee he turned to the other girl fighting her sobs, "What is Rule 8 of being a Ninja?"
"A shinobi must never show any weakness…" from beside me, Shien answered the question in a low voice.
"That's right," Tatomi-sensei looked over his shoulder at her then back to the upset children. "You all are seven or eight years old. In war-time you'd already be expected to handle these." He spun the kunai in his grip so fast it blurred, then caught it. "Still your emotions. Cry when classes are over."
For the mental side of training we expanded on our subjects. We also learnt about spying, tracking and concealing. We had a few lectures from veteran shinobi, who came into the classrooms to impart wisdom. At that point I still found learning fun, but once we had expectations like homework a lazier side of me appeared. Being told I had to do things hampered my motivation. Learning was no longer all about fun, but progress.
"Sit straight in your chairs everyone and pay attention," Tatomi-sensei motioned to the door as somebody walked in. "This is Darui, at seventeen he's a newly appointed chūnin and will be talking to you all about the importance of training."
Darui looked at all the curious faces sitting up in the arched desks. He ruffled his shaggy hair. His clothes were typical of most ninja: black undershirt and a single-strap white flak jacket. He had a sword on his back. The sensei stood aside with arms behind his back, making sure we all paid attention.
"Good morning class of 2-B. I know it might sound dull to many of you, but training is very important…"
Later it was the end of the day and students were making their way home.
"Do you want to play today?" Shien asked me.
"I can't. My clan has something on," I told her.
"I know what clan stuff is like. Is it a ceremony?"
"Sort of, I think it's just a party."
The Makijiku clan was one of the largest in Kumogakure. We weren't formidable, but we were well-respected. Our nickname was the scrollmaster clan, and we had secret techniques involving scrolls. We had our own district where we lived, and outside it sat a beautiful shrine-like building that served as a library of ninjutsu and all things ninja. The Makijiku temple was white with our trademark pale-green on the triangle roofing of the tiles, sparkling under the sun. It had gold accents, including our clan symbol displayed largely: a circle with a horizontal rectangle inside. After retiring as clan head, Grandma Kouga managed it with a few other clansmen.
Today we were having a celebration because our numbers increased by two. Now we were one hundred and four. Since there were so many of us, please don't feel the need to remember any of the names from the festivities here on out.
Baby Furui Makijiku had just been born to Uchikite and Edamida of the Suchi branch. He was the family's firstborn. At the same time, a foreigner man called Kazese Shinzahiro had fallen in love with Kaneki Makijiku of the largest branch, the Tomizato. She'd met the man on a mission away from the village and now they'd just got married. Every year a couple or so new babies were born, or someone would marry an outsider, and the whole clan would eat together as a mild form of celebration. The fact that our clan received two new members on the same day meant that today's dinner celebration would be more special, involving lots of toasting and well-wishes.
The table came up to my chest and was laden with food. There were gold hangings inside the clan hall, reflecting the yellow bulb-lights. White scrolls instead of the usual green hung open like banners with our clan's kanji on it. Clansmen were everywhere, some drinking sake. Most were in pale-green yukatas but others wore casual whites and browns. Mom was frowning as she carried in bowls of food, and Dad looked anxious. Grandma Kouga was always picking at them. Mom was the in-law, she had black wooly hair instead of the typical honey-brown of the Makijiku. Her hair looked even more woolen as she busied about, ignoring Kouga's critiques; at one point I heard them squabbling over food Mom brought and I slinked outside the clan hall with a few cousins.
A clansman called us back in when the speeches started.
Uncle Reiko stood from the end of the long table, "Hello everyone. Our clan, the Makijiku, is a critical component of Kumogakure. Many of our elders were present at the time of its foundation. We've endured wars and disasters, but we continue to fight alongside the village. It's important that in these times of peace we continue to consolidate our numbers and grow."
There was clapping among the hundred-odd people seated. I saw Grandma Kouga, poised as always, with an air of importance and clapping slowly along with everybody. She sat at his left, opposite his wife. My family always sat at a distance from them at events like these.
Suppai was always utterly bored by ceremonies, whereas sometimes I found them interesting.
"Today we are celebrating the birth of Furui, along with the marital union of Kaneki and Kazese. Also, I would like to bring attention to my youngest son, Fujishita, who at only fourteen has been accepted into our village's elite Storm Operations. He has followed in my eldest son Ishitomi's success who, last year, at the early age of fifteen was promoted to the rank of chūnin. Let all of us aspire to be meaningful contributions to the village."
Most of the adults here were simple Genin. Reikou took his seat to further, forced applause.