The boy was like every other of his age. Very much hopeful. Though there were the occasional few who were more angsty and rebellious, this kid in particular was at least one of the ones he was unsure how to feel. His defiant attitude and easily mouthing off the willing to die for was very much foolish. “Willing to die?” Repeated Uri before his very being would vanish from the boy’s sight.
It happened quite fast that maybe the boy would not even have noticed it until what he could only see was the moving clouds through the open roof of the arena area. Hard wet ground was behind him, coursing a cold sensation throughout his body. The air would have been knocked out from him though that would have been pitiful. An unimaginable lack of strength would pervade throughout his body and whenever the boy would feel the need to move, he would realise that such a thing was impossible. It felt like something heavy was standing on top his body as he lied on the ground, unmoving. Moreover, he could feel that he would not even be able to sense his chakra’s pulse within his body. Slowly, only his senses remained as the pain could intensify as the crushing force was against his chest.
But nothing was there.
In that exact moment when he would try to even move his head, he would realize that there seemed to be an invisible force stopping his every movement. And so, he was left only to stare at the moving clouds overhead. That was until Uri would walk into his view, looking back down at him, and with a dangerous kunai held just overhead.
“You seem to think that a silly boy who is willing to die is enough of an answer. If it’s so, I can let you choose, would you want to be killed by a kunai falling straight and into your skull? Or would you rather all muscles in your body stop moving, including your heart? Either way is a form of dying,” he said, not a trace of amusement in his eyes or tone. “Ah, but either way, you’d still be willing to die, so I shouldn’t delay your agony any longer.”
With that, Uri twirled the kunai and threw it, before grabbing it with a perfect grip and plunged into a downward thrust. It would swift, after all, he was just a boy. It would be merciful, at least by his standard. And it would be all over soon, at least the boy could try again in another life.
Not a sound escaped his lips. Not even a breath. Not even a heartbeat. The kunai stops short just a centimeter from the boy’s open eye. In through his other eye, he can see Uri’s own unflinching expression, one that seemed to suggest that death was something he knew all too well.
“Don’t think that a shinobi’s main mission is to protect. It’s not. Don’t romanticise it too much. And a shinobi willing to die is of no use. If we need sacrificial lambs, there’s a lot around, but shinobis are not one of those. That would be a good waste of everything we’ve put an effort for. This is why you fail to even aspire as a shinobi because your very notion of one is far from the reality,” Uri said as he drags the kunai above the eye and grazes the skin until it tore and scars the boy’s head. But of course, the only thing the boy could do was feel the pain, not even allowed to scream as his entire body’s movement was locked. Small amounts of blood trickled to the side of the boy’s face. “There. You just died. So what now? Can you protect someone when you’re dead? Don’t spout nonsense when you don’t even know how to live.”
After that, Uri struck the kunai down into the ground next to the boy’s head, nicking a bit of his ear, though plunged into the surface of the dirt. “There. You died a second time. Now, you’ve truly become worthless. Nothing more than a statistic. Not even a name.”
Then, Uri would stand up from where he was kneeling next to the boy’s head. He then began to walk away. “Come back when you’ve really thought through why you want to be a shinobi. All I see right now is just a boy who doesn’t know what to do with his life and wanted to become an important someone. But he’s too blinded by his ideal that he doesn’t even understand that he is empty inside.” At that point, the binding jutsu that ruled over the boy’s body would disappear as Uri walks out through the door of the arena-like area.
[WC: 800 + 271 + 592 = 1,663]
[Post: 4/5]
One important thing to pass his test was to be able to interact as normally as possible. That would have been easier said that done if he had been able to do such a thing from the beginning, but years of isolation from the rest of the village was not exactly helpful. Still, donning a normal red jacket over his black shirt and pants, and combat boots, Uri went straight to the academy grounds. He stopped short at the entrance as he watched the building. Funny and strange… he was never admitted there and yet, there he was, off to get his part of the job done by seemingly mentoring an aspiring genin. Well, mentoring would be pushing it too far. For today, it was merely an assessment class.
