His father had given him a dream, a hope to see the world; and he had determined that the best, most certain way to achieve that dream was the path of the Shinobi. Shigeo chased that dream with everything he had, and the path was brought with people who told him he couldn't do it. Constantly, incessantly, like a broken record, he was told he had no talent. He had none of what it took to become a Shinobi. Shigeo was told that his dream was impossible.
Spite drove him to prove them that they were wrong. Facilitators from Takigakure ensured he had constant training, constant opportunities for improvement, lessons that drilled into him the fundamentals that he sorely lacked. He devoted even the time meant for family to that training, because he wanted to make his dream come true.
And because it came at a cost his father deemed too steep, his father resented the dream that he had given his son.
In a world where he wanted to thrive, even his own father told him that he should give in. The others sneered and jeered his efforts, saying that they would only ever amount to nothing.
Self-doubt?
Perhaps. No one had ever done anything but doubt him. It was hard to imagine that he
did not doubt himself. It was that doubt that told him he wasn't doing enough. It told him that he needed to push harder, to break through the walls that were laid out in front of him. Spite turned into determination. Shigeo believed, wholeheartedly, that anyone could do anything, as long as they worked for it. It was why, even now, he acknowledged his weakness and his shortcomings.
Because with time, they would shrink, and eventually they would wither away entirely.
Kaoru had said something that, until now, no one else had told Shigeo. He watched the other youth with an unreadable expression, even as Kaoru forced a funeral bell into his palm.
He told Shigeo to give it back when he was ready to fight
for real. No one had ever cared if Shigeo could fight or not. No one had ever thought what he did mattered. He was the only one, a silent storm, who fought simply for the right to exist.
As lightning cracked overhead, and the tempest raged into something that they really ought to duck out of, he matched Kaoru's gaze with his determination on display.
Someone had acknowledged him. Another Ninja was telling him that he could do something. Kaoru told Shigeo to chase after him, and he genuinely believed that Shigeo could do it. That he was capable.
He gave a quiet nod, unable to lend words to what the gesture meant.
Shigeo would swing his sword, countless times, until his body could not respond to his brain. He would scream until his lungs had nothing in them to give, and his hands would blister and burn from his tight grip on the katana. All of that, and he still would owe a debt of gratitude he was uncertain that he could ever repay.
So, there was only one way to thank the other Genin.
"And when I do," he said,
"I'll make sure it's worth your time."[541 words]
Training: 12/8
Tokonatsu Kaoru