"Ain't this a bitch," Kuin muttered, his voice dripping with frustration. "Apparently, self-defense is a damn crime."
After the incident, he tried to leave via the room's window but was stopped by a vigilant Jonin who had heard the window break. Seeing the lifeless body inside, the Jonin reacted swiftly, doing what any rational person would do – knocking Kuin out and delivering him into the hands of the police force. When Kuin eventually woke up, he found himself chained to a wall, his body enveloped by intricate seals from head to toe.
This had been his existence for the past four grueling days. He was confined to a dim, damp cell, bound by unyielding chains and sealed away from his chakra. In moments of boredom, frustration, and, dare he admit, a tinge of amusement, Kuin resorted to his old habits.
"Locked up, they won't let me out," he sang obnoxiously, his voice echoing off the cold stone walls, fully aware that there were likely guards stationed outside the door. The longer they kept him here, the more determined he became to make their lives as miserable as possible.
"I used to be an Internet troll with nothing else to do. I can do this all day, knowing that you're forced to endure it," he taunted with a mischievous grin, leaning into the role of a defiant nuisance.
Perhaps he was enjoying this a little too much...
It took him two long days of fruitless provocations to realize that this tactic wasn't working. These guards were evidently masters in the art of annoyance resistance. With a resigned sigh, Kuin abandoned his symphony of irritation and instead, resorted to counting the tiles on the moss-covered walls, the cracks in the uneven floor. His mind drifted, locked in a monotonous rhythm.
In the cell's shadows, he failed to notice the entrance of an unexpected visitor.
Standing there was an elderly man, half of his face shrouded beneath bandages, his other arm immobilized in a sling, also concealed by bandages. The man, leaning on a cane, tapped it gently on the ground to draw Kuin's attention.
As Kuin looked at him, a thought struck him. He recalled this man from a distant memory. It was the same old man who had held him up before that crowd. Knowing that people aren't supposed to retain memories from when they were an infant He decided to play it safe.
"Hey, I recognize you! You're that old man with your face on the mountain!" Kuin exclaimed in a moment of recognition, his voice carrying a glimmer of intrigue. "You must be pretty important to have your face carved up there. Can you get me out of here? That lady was trying to kill me. It was her or me, and I chose me!"
While Kuin voiced his need for assistance, a lingering thought in the back of his mind remained. If this man wielded enough influence to make the village hostile towards him, perhaps he could be useful. Kuin realized that even if he accepted this help, he wouldn't forget his own plans to run his fade in the future.
The old man hummed thoughtfully. "We've gathered that much from the investigation that was conducted. I'm here to inform you that you've been deemed innocent."
"Great, so you'll let me go, right?" Kuin's words spilled out with a hopeful urgency.
"Not quite. What you did there caused quite a scare in the village. To avoid mass panic, we'll have to place you under probation until further notice."
Kuin sighed and slumped onto the cell floor. "I suppose it's better than being stuck in this cell. But there's a problem. I've been kicked out of the orphanage I grew up in. How am I supposed to stay on probation without a roof over my head?"
The scene transitioned to Kuin standing in front of his newly opened apartment door, with Danzo standing behind him. The apartment was far from luxurious; peeling paint and mysterious stains adorned the carpet.
"Well, it's something, I guess," Kuin remarked, surveying the apartment with a mixture of gratitude and mild disappointment. "Definitely needs a thorough cleaning."
Danzo nodded solemnly, his unwavering gaze fixed on Kuin. "This is the best we can offer for now. Once you become a Shinobi, you'll have access to better accommodations."
Kuin contemplated this, thinking about the figure who had knocked him out and the seemingly supernatural speed of his assailant.
"How does one become a Shinobi exactly?" His voice filled with newfound determination.
Danzo leaned slightly on his cane, his demeanor as enigmatic as ever, as he began to explain the process of becoming a Shinobi.
"Becoming a Shinobi," he began, his one visible eye focused on Kuin, "is a path riddled with trials and challenges. To attain that status, you must first join a ninja academy. There, you'll receive basic training in the arts of chakra manipulation, combat, and the fundamentals of ninja techniques."
He paused briefly before continuing, his voice measured. "Once you've graduated from the academy, you'll be assigned to a Genin team, led by a Jōnin sensei. As a Genin, you'll embark on missions of varying degrees of difficulty, from simple D-rank assignments to more complex and dangerous ones."
Danzo's words flowed with a weight of experience, each sentence punctuated by a deliberate pause. "Your progress as a Shinobi will depend on your ability to complete these missions successfully. Consistent improvement in skills and teamwork will lead to promotions. Attaining the rank of Chunin signifies a significant step in your Shinobi career, opening doors to more challenging missions and responsibilities."
He paused again, Danzo's eye seemed to glint with a hidden depth of knowledge. "But remember, the life of a Shinobi is one of sacrifice. Your loyalty to the village must be unwavering, and you may be called upon to perform missions that test your resolve and principles."
Danzo's eye bore into Kuin as he spoke, emphasizing the gravity of the path ahead. "To ascend further, to become a Jōnin, requires exceptional skill, experience, and, sometimes, a unique bloodline or mastery of a particular technique. And beyond that, there are ranks such as Anbu, responsible for the village's darkest secrets and missions."
With that, Danzo fell silent, leaving Kuin to ponder the arduous path that lay ahead if he chose to tread it.
Hearing all this, Kuin had only one question. "Who's paying for all this? Is it a loan type of situation?"
Danzo hmmed, his demeanor unchanging. "The village will pay your tuition throughout the academy, providing all the basic necessities you need throughout the years. In exchange, you'll have to pay back the village in small increments from your mission pay."
Upon hearing this, Kuin's mind seemed to crash.
Oh god, They've got student loans in this world, Kuin thought, a hint of dread creeping into his thoughts. Oh god,They're trying to ensnare me again!
Kuin thought about his options. It was a choice between becoming a soldier for the village, reaping its benefits, and repaying student loans, or living in poverty due to people disliking him for some reason. The decision was clear.
Damn you, capitalism!
"Where do I sign up?" Kuin said, his voice filled with a newfound determination. Danzo gave a slow nod of approval.