Edit: Same again.
This chapter is a day early because I'm going to be a bit busy for the next couple of days, hoping the next update is going to be on time but might be a few days late. Anywho! Thank you all so much for your reviews/favourites/follows. I appreciate it so, so much. I know these kind of fics can be a bit slow in the beginning, but hopefully it will get more interesting next chapter now that all the settling in is finished. Once again, thanks for your support, pleeeaaasssee review if you have time, it means so much to me! Enjoy!
Chapter 3: Lessons in Letting Go
.
When Raika is four years, three months and eleven days old, Tsugaya Hikari dies.
She was healthy, just turned twenty nine, almost the same age Raika had been when -
Eyes glazed, a haze of pain, limbs twitching in an aborted attempt to crawl away from the wreckage
-There is no warning. Hikari went on a mission one day – a routine patrol along the Earth border – and simply fails to come back.
Raika knows something bad has happened when she skips back into the house after another successful morning of moving leaves across her skin and finds her father sitting at the table. He has an open scroll held loosely in his hands and a completely emotionless look on his face, like someone has substituted her father for a store mannequin. He isn't even reading the scroll, just staring at one of the swirls of ink with blank unseeing eyes.
Raika wonders briefly if that is what she looks like when she looses herself.
It's kinda creepy.
Almost as if someone has cranked a dimmer switch inside, turning the eyes dark. Soulless. Empty. No wonder her parents worry about her so much.
"Dad?" Raika asks into the quiet of the kitchen. She can't even hear him breathing, and he gives no response. She tries again as she steps forward, a little closer, a little louder. "Dad?"
Mugen jerks his head up, his eyes snapping back into focus, landing on her as he finally realises he isn't alone in the room. He blinks, clears his throat. "Did you – sorry, did you say something kit?"
Raika tries to ignore the way his voice breaks mid sentence as she carefully makes her way around the table to stand at his side. Her eyes flicker to the paper in his hand, hoping to get a glimpse of what is written inside but she can't make anything out – written in code? She blinks and her eyes are back on her father.
Mugen makes a half hearted attempt at rolling the scroll shut but then just lets it thump onto the table in favour of pulling her into an abrupt hug. His breath stirs her hair and she has to resist the urge to pull away to flatten it down because somethingis happening.
"What's wrong?" Raika asks, her voice muffled against his shoulder. She knows it has to be bad for it to affect her father like this. He's a Jonin and an active member of ANBU -he's never said anything but she'd seen the mask once- so he has to have seen some pretty messed up shit in his time.
"Oh kit," He says around a sigh, sounding broken. "I'm so sorry sweetheart."
She does pull away then. Silver eyes meet silver eyes and Raika surreptitiously tucks the errant strands of short blue hair behind her ear, "What happened?"
"It's your mother," Mugen tells her and Raika's heart clenches because she thinks -for one ridiculous second – that he means her other mother. But no. Mugen can't mean her – he means Hikari. "She's -" He pauses, turns his face away slightly, pain etching on his features. "-She's gone, kit."
"Gone." Raika repeats back, nonplussed. What does he mean gone? She's on a mission, of course she was – oh. Oh no.
Raika feels a wave of grief wash over her that wars with a gush of guilt.
The initial panic she had felt hadn't been for Hikari, it had been for the first woman she had called mother. The one that had nurtured her for years. The one that had read to her every night before bed, that had baked cakes and cookies for her and her sister. The one that had helped pick her dress for prom, kept her encouraged through years of schooling, that had helped pay for her first ca-
The quiet clicking of metal cooling, settling, mixed with the sound of laboured breathing
-Hikari would have done all those things – or the shinobi equivalent – if she had had the chance. But she wouldn't get that chance, not any more. It's too sudden. Too abrupt. People don't just di-
Pain, so much pain.
-But she's still important. Hikari has been one of the only two people Raika really knows in this world. Hikari had cared for her. She had taught Raika to speak and to read. She had been endlessly patient and kind. Hikari had loved her, even though Raika wasn't the daughter she deserved, her mother had always loved her.
And Raika had loved Hikari too. She couldn't be gone. Not like that.
Raika jerks back as something touches her face, surprised to find Mugen's hand so close. Fingertips wet. When had she started crying? When had he started crying.
"It's okay. It's okay," Her father is saying over and over, reassuring himself as well as her. "It's okay. I know. It's okay."
It isn't okay and he doesn't know.
Raika knows. Is more familiar with death-
Cold and hot all at once
- No, Hikari. How did she die-
Getting harder to breathe
-Hikari had been with her squad. What had happened to them? Was she the only one? Had she been alone when she -
Whimpering around a mouthful of blood
-Did it hurt? Was she in pain?-
The smell of smoke, burnt rubber, copper and rain
-Had she been afraid -
Eyes flicking back and forth, seeing nothing
-Did Hikari think about them while she lay dyin-
Too much blood, too much pain
Raika sways on her feet and darkness sweeps in.
...
The funeral is held a little under a week later, though Raika uses the term funeral loosely. There is no service. No friends or family gathered. There is no coffin. No body at all, as far as she knows - which isn't much because everyone is being very tight lipped about the whole thing. Whether that's because the body hasn't been retrieved or because there isn't enough of it to be worth the effort she doesn't know, and she doesn't ask.
Despite the lack of ceremony Raika and Mugen aren't the only people clustered around the stone obelisk. Apparently only one member of Hikari's squad has survived their patrol – he's still in the hospital, she overhears, so they aren't the only mourners.
There is another little family, a mother and two dark haired boys who are all weeping openly as they huddle around the memorial. Then a lone woman a little older than her father, her face twisted in sadness though her eyes remain dry. The difference between civilian and shinobi.
The Hokage is there too, though briefly.
The first real Naruto character she has come into contact with and it's at her mothers funeral. Figures.
He's nice enough. Not as old or grey as she remembers him being but there's still a war and twelve odd years left for that to happen.
The Hokage speaks for a few minutes about the will of fire and how the village is thankful for the lives their loved ones have given in it's service. A little impersonal, but functional. He's probably had to do this kind of thing enough times that it's almost rote by this point.
Sandaime-sama then offers his condolences along with what looks to be Hikari's hitai-ate, though could have easily been a place holder for the real one. The shinobi equivalent of dog tags. He does the same for the other two ninja that have died, spending a few minutes with each family. Showing support. Grieving with them. Mourning their loss.
"Dad?" Raika asks into a lull in the conversation. Both Mugen and the Hokage turn as one to look at her, both eyes sharp though one pair is clouded with pain – the other coloured by fatigue.
"What is it, Raika?" Mugen questions quietly, squeezing her hand.
"Why doesn't mum get a grave in the cemetery?" She asks, eyes flicking back and forth between the adults as she waits for her answer.
It's been bugging her since they arrived. Originally Raika thought that the memorial was for shinobi who had died in the Third War, because Uchiha Obitio's name would eventually be carved onto it, but not Nohara Rin. Rin hadn't died as a direct result of the war, not like Obito had, so she didn't get a place – but that war hadn't started yet.
Maybe it's just for shinobi who's bodies couldn't be recovered? But no, that isn't right either because other names had been added to the Memorial, those of people that had died well after the war like Hayate and Iruka's parents and they had all died in Konoha, their bodies might not have been whole but they had been in the village.
Perhaps it's a combination of things? She doesn't know. She wants to, though, because it feels like has meaning.
"It's.. complicated kit," Mugen tells her, offering up a smile but nothing that actually helps.
"But she should have her own grave," Raika persists, frowning because for some reason it's important for her to understand this. Back, before, graves were important. Funerals were expensive. You made a big deal about the person who had -
Tears blurring, vision turning black.
- You didn't just lump them in with a couple of other people and leave it at that. It isn't uncommon for ninja to live short lives, but does that mean you don't bother? It's just too routine? "What's the significance of the Memorial Stone?" She continues, ignoring the way her fathers brows crease for a few seconds when she blanks, his hand holding hers a little tighter.
"The memorial is to commemorate the brave men and women who sacrificed themselves for the future of the village." The Hokage fills for her when Mugen doesn't offer any information. He gives her a kindly smile but it's strained. Raika's frown deepens. Sacrificedis not the same as just dying. Was that just poor wording? A sacrifice could be willingly made, would be willing for most ninja. What was the difference between someone sacrificing themselves for the village as opposed to being killed in the line of duty? Is there one? If her mother die-
Ears ringing, burning, bleeding
"-Don't all shinobi give their lives for the village?" She barrelled on, directing it at the Hokage. "Why aren't they all on the memorial?"
"Raika, we can talk about this later." Mugen says, a little more forcefully. Is he avoiding her question because he doesn't want to answer it or because he's worried what it will do to her already strained mental state?
Her head aches horribly.
"But I don't understand," Raika says instead of voicing her internal debate, turning her eyes to her father. "What happens to get your name engraved on the Memorial? Why is mum here and not-"
Laboured breaths coming in short gasps
-"Why isn't she-" Raika shakes her head, trying to abort the dark thoughts that close in. She doesn't want to cause a scene - well, not more of one. Not here. Not now. She just wants to know.
"It's okay kit, just breathe," Mugens voice urges, his distress cutting through the haze in her mind. Raika blinks, and is surprised to find her father crouching in front of her, hands on her shoulders. She didn't even realise he'd moved. "Remember what the doctor said?"
Raika remembers.
- She hadn't realised she had blacked out after hearing the news of Hikari's death. She'd woken up some hours later in her own bed, with a splitting headache and a stranger standing over her.
Mugen had been there too, hovering and anxious.
"Ah, Raika-chan, how are you feeling?" The medic had asked, smiling down at her.
He was young, younger than her father at least with a pointed chin and round glasses that made his eyes look too big for his face, like a bug. He was probably a nice man, but Raika had never much liked doctors so she disliked this one on principle.
"Fine." She had lied. Her head hurt, so did her chest.
"Can you tell me what happened?" The medic had asked. He leaned over her a little more, uncomfortably close and she had shrunk back against her pillows, frowning up at him.
"My mother died." Raika told him, saying the words but not thinking about then, then added. "I don't remember fainting."
"What your father described sounded a little like it might have been a panic attack. Short of breath, trembling, sweating, unfocused," The medic reeled off the symptoms. Raika blinked. "Tsugaya-san said this has happened previously, but you haven't blacked out before. Is that right?"
Why was he asking her when Mugen was standing not three feet away? Raika flicked a glance over at her father. Still watching uneasily and not showing any sign of coming to her aid.
"No, not like that." Raika agreed after a minute. It had never really lasted long enough for symptoms before. She guessed her eyes probably lost focus, maybe her breathing quickened or her palms got clammy but never sweating outright or shaking noticeably. Over before her body had a chance to do anything.
"I know this must be scary for you," The medic had said with a sympathetic smile. "It's always hard to lose someone you love and if you are prone to panic attacks then things like this can trigger them."
Raika nodded even though she knew the source of her episodes wasn't a panic attack. It was sudden, yes, but not anything she could see coming. It wasn't something that built up until it was too much, she didn't feel any rising terror. She didn't feel much of anything. It came out of nowhere, swept through her like someone had opened a sluice gate and left just as quickly, leaving her washed clean of feeling. Empty. Numb.
"Do you want to talk about it?" The medic had asked.
Raika shook her head and had avoided laughing in his face. She knew it wasn't something she could share with anyone. How long would it take them to pronounce her crazy? Did Konoha have a mental institution? It wasn't a question she wanted an answer too.
"Okay, I understand," The medic had nodded. "I'm going to teach you a few different methods that might help you in future."
He had proceeded to walk her through several exercises that ranged from taking a certain number of breaths, holding and releasing to some strange variation of yoga that he thought would help centre her and a collection of distraction techniques. Raika had nodded along politely but knew the information was almost useless to her -
"Breathe, kit," Her father reminds, bringing her out of the memory and back to the present. She inhales deeply, holds it, then breathes out. Repeats it, then again until the distressed look on Mugens face shifts to something less panicked. Carefully she ignores the way even the two dark haired boys have stopped their weeping momentarily to watch her. "Better?"
She nods.
"You sure?" Mugen asks. He's still squatting in front of her, watching her with an assessing gaze. It makes Raika feel a little like she's an exhibition at a museum, or an animal in a cage.
"I'm sure," She says to him, a little more firmly. "I just.. I don't understand."
"I know sweetheart, I promise I'll tell you about it later, okay?" Her father assures her, smiling, though it doesn't reach his eyes. Raika nods. "Good girl, now let's... let's say our goodbyes, shall we?"
Raika nods again, even if she still thinks something is wrong with the whole situation. She waits for her father to stand and offer his hand to her and then the two of them turn to face the memorial, Hikari's name newly engraved on the dark stone.
...
It's hard to think of Hikari as dea-
Eyelids sliding closed, fluttering open again. Fighting to stay awake
- Not just because thinking of things like that cause her brain to short circuit, but because it doesn't really seem like she's gone.
Things just aren't that much different around the house.
Raika can easily pretend that her mother is still off on a mission, a very long mission sure, but a mission that she will eventually return from. She can imagine waking up and finding Hikari sipping tea in the courtyard, a smile on her face and a book laying open beside her. Or out in the garden. Her mother had always liked gardening – Raika can almost envision Hikari tending to the flowerbeds that run around the inner wall, long fingers streaked with dirt and smelling of roses.
It would be a very simple thing for Raika to make herself believe that Hikari isn't really gone. But she is. No amount of denial is going to change that. Raika is already struggling to get over one death, she doesn't need to have a second one dogging her steps as well.
But it's weird.
Shinobi don't mourn like normal people.
Her father is heartbroken. Hikari had been the first and only love of his life. Her mother had told her once – it was one of those things Raika hadn't cared about at the time, but was now glad she knew – that the two of them had been in the same academy class, had graduated in the same year. Mugen and Hikari had fought each other in their preliminary matches for Chunin -her father had won but they had both been promoted - and he'd invited her out for a 'sorry I gave you a black eye' apology meal.
He had always loved her.
The problem was he isn't showing it.
Hikari's gone; all Mugen has left of her are a few photos, some clothes and knick-knacks, his memories and Raika – the little girl who is but also isn't their daughter.
Her father isn't acting like a man who has just lost his wife and soul mate. It isn't that Raika wants him to be an emotional wreck – she can't handle that on top of her own troubles, but a little bit of grief wouldn't go amiss.
It takes a few days of watching - his smiles not so wide, his laugh not as full, his hugs just a little too tight – for Raika to realise that this was how he has been trained, to regulate his emotions. To suppress his feelings and carry on. What was that rule; shinobi must never show weakness? Something like that. Horse shit.
No wonder a lot of the characters in the Naruto-verse are fucked up.
Bottling up emotions like that might be useful if you have to watch your team mates dying on a regular basis but it can only lead to bad things in the long run. There are all sorts of things that suppressing your emotions can effect; stress, anxiety, depression, communication and a hell of a lot more inside the body; a weakened immune system, headaches, blood clots. If you ignore all that it's only a matter of time before your body shuts itself down.
Raika doesn't know how to go about undoing years and years of ninja conditioning to help her father, but she does what she can to aid his grief.
In the weeks that follow Hikari's death Raika spends more time with her father, giving random hugs and trying her hardest not to think about things that might cause more worry in his life. She doesn't know how to heal a broken heart any more than she knows how to fix a broken mind, but she tries. And if Mugen still sets the table for three at mealtimes – well, neither of them are very good at letting go.
...
Even though he is recently widowed and has a four year old with a tendency to lose herself in a mini existential crisis every time she thinks of memories she shouldn't even have, Mugen still has to work. He's a shinobi and a Jonin of Konohagakure, which means carrying on despite the shit life throws at you.
While he's away on missions outside of the village Raika is left in the care of their elderly neighbour Kojima Ayako; a delightful old woman with terrible eyesight and very few teeth left to her, which makes every other word she speaks come out as a whistle.
Kojima-san isn't the most observant of guardians though, which is probably why Hotaru also gets left behind to watch over the Tsugaya child.
The elderly woman and the summons make a surprisingly good combination because while the Kojima-san isn't particularly mobile - she has a bad hip- she did used to be a teacher – which means she is very helpful in getting Raika's reading and writing up to scratch. Kojima-san is a fount of knowledge and always seems happy to explain things to Raika, answering questions in detail or teaching her bits and pieces of history - which she is probably old enough to have been a part of.
She also has a metric fuck ton of books that Raika can't wait to get her tiny little hands on. Damn how she's missed being able to read.
Hotaru already knows that the only way to keep Raika out of trouble when she isn't trying to puzzle her way through the complexities of the written word is to keep her moving.
The cat summons employes his tried and tested method of using copious amounts of kittens to rein her in, which works up until a point – even kittens need rest. Once Raika proves she is fast enough to catch all but one of the kittens, Hotaru steps up his game and begins to show her useful little tricks that kept her occupied for hours; things like how to relax her eyes in a way that enhances her peripheral vision, how to twist her body when she falls so she can always land on her feet -or hands-, how to pounce and where to bite a mouse to kill it instantly.
The last one doesn't really take, but she's willing enough to try the pouncing.
One of the more interesting things Hotaru tries to teach Raika is how to place her feet to make the least amount of noise. Instinct for a cat, handy for a ninja, almost impossible for a child.
As young children go Raika has remarkably good control over her body for the obvious reason of already having experience in piloting one. That being said she still struggles to quieten her steps completely. She practises till her feet barely make a sound. Little more than a whisper, a sigh of wind, but it is enough that she never manages to creep up on Hotaru.
There has to be a way to silence her movements completely, she thinks.
Shinobi are sneaky. They are masters of stealth. She has seen it in the anime and is determined to learn it for herself. Raika assumes there is some way to manipulate chakra that will cancel the sound of her footsteps – but fuck if she knows how it's done.
If she can make a vacuum with her chakra it could work – but she doesn't have the energy or the knowledge to even attempt something like that. So instead she practises with what she knows.
First she tries coating her feet with chakra to create a barrier between herself and the floor, just the smallest layer at first because she doesn't have much and can't afford to use it frivolously. It doesn't work. All she manages to do is slightly glue herself down.
Then she tries smaller points of contact. Chakra on her heel, supporting the arch and on the ball of her foot. Not enough to stick but enough to soften the landing. It almost works. There is still the slightest sound but it's better than nothing.
Finally, she tests pushing chakra out of her feet with each step. The entirety of her foot, at first, then just the heel and ball. Tiny jets of chakra expelling to silence the sound of her foot meeting the ground. To her surprise it works.
It takes her weeks to get it down properly, but when combined with what Hotaru has taught her about even distribution of weight and placement of the foot she can eventually make her steps silent with only minimal chakra output. Of course until her reserves grow it's still tiring and she couldn't have kept it up for a full day – not to mention that no matter how small the amount of chakra she uses her control still isn't good enough to avoid detection by someone trained to sense it.
Still, she is pleased.
Even more so with the surprised leap and hiss Hotaru gives her when she finally manages to sneak up behind him and give his bushy tail a gentle tug.
On the rare occasions that Mugen isn't out of the village he spends all his time with Raika, trying to make up for the days and weeks spent away.
At first the adult in Raika shied away from the almost constant presence of her father, wanting her own space and time alone. It isn't like time spent with Kojima-san, who gives Raika a book and leaves her to it - or Hotaru who is content to let her practice her own thing as long as he can keep an eye on her. Mugen is always there and it makes the introvert in her balk at the thought of having to spend hours with him. But the child in her fights back, demanding the bonding time with a stubbornness that only children can possess.
So, after some hesitancy, they do stuff together - and it's not as bas as she first thought it would be, in fact it's actually kind of cool.
At first they only do small things; going to the park, taking a picnic, playing with the kittens, visiting Hikari and attempting to bake -though they only try that once. Getting a feel for each other, testing the waters. It's strange to do things without her mother present - like there is a Hikari shaped hole in their lives that they have no idea how to fill, but the more time they spend together the easier it becomes.
Then their daddy-daughter escapades evolve into more exciting adventures.
Mugen takes Raika outside of Konoha's walls for the first time for a camping trip in the surrounding forest. He teaches her how to pitch a tent and make a fire in at least three different ways, then how to cover up her presence so it looks like they've never been there. It's hard, since she's so small, but her eagerness to learn new things makes up for a lot and the muddle through.
He shows her how to make traps and snares -though she doesn't actually catch anything- and how to fish with rods, nets or baskets – which is also unsuccessful. Her father points out which roots are safe to eat, which ones will make her sick or even kill her. Mugen patiently shows her where to forage for mushrooms, what to look for when searching for grubs and how to identify plants with medicinal properties.
They go for hikes, exploring the mountains behind the Hokage monument where Mugen tries to show Raika how to rock climb – though she doesn't have enough strength for it and ends up being carried most of the way. Mugen doesn't complain and he uses the time to point out various different plants and shrugs that cling to life in the mountains.
Raika decides it's easier to appreciate the view when being carried.
The two of them spend hours stargazing on clear winter nights, wrapped in blankets to stave off the chill. Mugen points out the constellations and how to use the position of the stars to navigate her way, he tells her about how they change during the summer months, and what to look for then. Raika tries not to think about how the stars are different to the ones she had known before and focuses instead on how much brighter they seem without the orange glow of a million street lights muting them out.
The amount of knowledge Mugen gives Raika is unreal. She'd never been much into nature before, growing up in a bustling city where camping had never even crossed her mind – but now she takes it all in eagerly, even if it does make her head throb and her eyes ache.
She's always been good at rememberi-
Warmth leeching out of her body, darkness creeping in
-and it's all useful. Each little tip and every piece of advice stored away for later use. Mugen seems genuinely surprised by her ability to absorb all the things he passes on to her, but never mentions it, just keeps giving more, feeding her curious mind.
The things Mugen show her are endlessly interesting and Raika soaks it all up as best she can, feeling like a regular Bear Grylls by the time her fifth birthday rolls around. It is little over a month before that Mugen introduces the idea of school.
...
Raika is reading at her desk, pouring over a history book borrowed from Kojima-san when Mugen appears in the doorway, pausing briefly to knock but not waiting for her to answer before strolling in with a sheaf of papers in his hand.
She turns to frown up at him when the papers land on the page she is reading, obscuring the section that details the daimyo who have ruled each elemental nation in the past. "What's this?" she asks curiously, even as her glance travels back down to scan the pages, eyebrows raising slightly.
"Entrance papers," Mugen tells her, though she's already figured that much out. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to apply for the Academy or Konoha shōgakkō, so I picked up both."
Raika nods, because that makes sense. Even though she made the conscious decision to become a shinobi almost two years ago she never actually discussed that course of action with her parents – well, parent, now. In all honesty she thought they might have picked for her. Choosing where to go to school hadn't involved her until she went to college in her past life, Raika thought it might have been much the same here.
She assumed that Mugen had taught her all those survival techniques during his downtime as a precursor to entering the Academy, but apparently he is giving her the choice to decide her future, another irregularity in the Naruto-verse. Children are given much more responsibility here, much more freedom. Raika still isn't sure if that is a good thing or not, but it makes sense if you need child-soldiers who can think for themselves.
Turning her attention back to the papers she studies them again. There isn't a lot of difference between the two. Each form has sections for the applicants personal details; name, date of birth, citizenship number, address and a place where a recent picture can be attached. There are boxes for their parent or guardians information; their place of birth, their passport number, their job description.
Only the Academy papers have the section at the bottom though. The place to write clan details, potential kekkei genkai or other special abilities passed down through the family.
Both schools teach the same thing for the most part – though the Academy is more militarian. It's lessons are focused to help the students develop into competent shinobi. It teaches strategy. Leadership. Teamwork. It teaches loyalty and obedience – above all else.
Their geography lessons show the children which nations are allies and which are enemies, which borders they can cross and which ones will get them killed if they are caught. History instructs them in past battles, which tactics and formations are used and when, why the are effective or why they aren't. Mathematics and science teach problem solving, they developed analysis and logic and behavioural skills. Help train theory, method and practice.
The civilian school would teach the same, but their lessons would be geared towards more mundane practices. And their physical education is nowhere near as intensive.
Raika frowns at the papers for a long time.
Civilian or ninja. Civilian or ninja. Civilian or ninja?
Is she picking ninja just because she wants cool powers? Even with cool jutsu can she do anything to impact the Naruto-verse to make it just a little less shitty? Should she even try? Can she be a ninja when thoughts of dea-
a distant thud-thud, slowing, slowing
A civilian life wouldn't be so bad, would it? She can pioneer a new age in technology, become filthy rich and spend her days lazing in the sun, on a hot beach somewhere. Did she want that? Yes. Will it be best for her? Probably.
Raika doesn't know for sure which is the right path. What she does know is that she doesn't want to be helpless. Becoming a shinobi might find her in an early grave -
darkness, cold, a fading drum beat
- but it will be one of her own making. Her own decision.
"I want to be a ninja." Raika says finally, sending up a silent prayer to whichever Gods happen to be listening that she doesn't live to regret it.
So, things get a little more interesting next chapter when Raika enters the Academy! Got to wonder if becoming a ninja is the best choice for someone who can't think about death without freezing up, but where's the fun in being a civvy? Once again thanks to everyone who reviewed and those of you that followed/faved. Please let me know if you like the story and review/follow/favourite as you see fit! Much love.