Takuma had been in the Land of Hot Waters once, but he had only passed through the nation on his way to the Land of Frost. The journey was quite pleasant, even if he had nothing terrible memories of the destination. If Takuma weren’t on a clock and hadn’t set aside time for sightseeing because of how long it took to get the pass from Dr. Oichi on his recovery, he would’ve stayed at least two days in a tourist spot in the Land of Hot Waters.
The lack of time meant Takuma had to rush through the country and reach the border camp where he was stationed.
Takuma looked up at the sky; the sun was about to set. He had traveled during the night, but Takuma didn’t want to rush because he had almost reached the camp, and pulling an all-nighter would leave him tired on arrival, something he wanted to avoid. Takuma decided he would camp for the night and then resume early in the morning to reach in the afternoon.
Takuma knew a township nearby could be used as a rest point, but it meant he would be ending his journey two hours before he usually did, but Takuma decided to do it. Within half an hour, Takuma found the town, and the first thing he noticed upon entering was how bustling with activity and people the town was. The streets were more crowded than what he had seen in Hidden Leaf, which was surprising considering that the town wasn’t a prime tourist destination, nor was the town on a major trading route—and yet, Takuma felt as though he was in a major city.
It was intriguing, so Takuma asked the next shinobi guard he found.
“Hey, is it like this year-round? Crowded, isn’t it,” he asked.
“Not at all. I have been living in this town for a decade, and not once have there been this many people here,” said the middle-aged Hidden Steam shinobi.
“Then what’s the occasion?”
“They’re refugees displaced from their homes near the border. There’s even a camp outside the town for those who couldn’t afford to move. People have been moving westwards all year long. The war is running people’s lives. It’s a whole mess,” the shinobi looked deeply pained. It was expected; his country was toiling in a war they couldn’t fight.
He turned to look at Takuma. “You don’t look like you’re from here, little brother. Where are you going?”
“To the border.” Takuma introduced himself, “Hidden Leaf shinobi, joining the war to help our allies.”
“Oh! I did think you weren’t from the country. So, you’re from Land of Fire, huh. Well, allow me to welcome you to the country.”
They got to talking and exchanging information. Eventually, Takuma asked the man for a recommendation for an inn or a hotel, and they parted ways.
The plan was to book a room, go out to have some good local cuisine, and then turn in early to start his journey early into the morning. Alas, things didn’t go according to plan.
“You don’t have any rooms? Anything would do,” Takuma said to the hotel staff behind the front desk.
“Can’t help you. There’s no space left because of the refugees. I doubt you will find a room in the city for a while. This town wasn’t built to hold this many people. The folks with empty rooms in their home are renting them out to the travelers because of how much demand is there for a roof,” said the staff.
“Damn,” Takuma sighed.
“If you want a place to sleep, you can try the camp outside the town. You might get a piece of ground with a tent over your head. But be careful about your belongings, not much security. You will have to convince the shinobi there to let you in,” said the staff.
Takuma went to several more inns and hotels, but everything was complete. There was not a single room for him to sleep under tonight. Having run out of options, Takuma headed to the refugee camp. He had a tent of his own he could set up, but he needed a dry place, and the Land of Hot Waters had entered its monsoon season, which had made dry land sparse. There were shinobi managing the camp, so Takuma decided to ask them if he could sleep under one of their tents. He just needed a place on the floor, and he could sleep in his sleeping bag.
The camp was just an area occupied with poor-quality tents with tons of displaced citizens. The atmosphere was in stark difference from the town. The camp looked destitute and impoverished. As he walked through the camp, he could see people, and they seemed to have no energy in them.
The Land of Hot Waters wasn’t a poor country. In fact, it was the opposite. The country was well managed, and the citizens lived a comfortable life. But looking at the state of the camp, Takuma gathered how much the war had taken it out of the nation and how the people had been affected. He felt thankful for having first lived in a peaceful modern era, and then when he was displaced, he found himself living in the Hidden Leaf.
After asking around, Takuma found the shinobi. There was a better-quality tent in the back. Through the flaps, Takuma noticed a Hidden Leaf uniform, and he headed straight in. Takuma was noticed the moment he entered.
“And who might you be?” asked the man
“Genin Takuma of the Hidden Leaf, sir,” Takuma replied and showed his shinobi identification.
The man smiled as he rose up to shake hands with Takuma.
“What a pleasant surprise. I’m Genin Takashi. What brings you here?” said Takashi.
“I’m on my way to a border camp. I was wondering if I could get somewhere to sleep. I looked for a room in the town, but nothing was free. Just a dry piece of land for me to set up a tent would be more than enough.”
“Of course, of course,” Takashi was more than happy to host Takuma. “There’s no space in the staff tents, but you can stay in one of the civilian tents. You will have to share, but I will make sure the people in your tent are good folk.”
“I couldn’t ask more of you,” Takuma smiled.
As Takashi led him through the camp, Takuma opened a conversation.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you managing a refugee camp? Shouldn’t the Hidden Steam handle this,” he asked.
“Agreed, and this camp is handled by the Hidden Steam. There are three Hidden Steam genin who manage this camp. I’m only temporarily helping them out because this camp exceeded its intended capacity. I was at Camp Husk until a month ago, and they finally approved of my return, but they asked me to manage this camp until Hidden Steam can manage the situation. Two more weeks here, and I will return home,” Takashi sounded happy.
“That’s good, congratulations,” said Takuma.
“Thank you. So, where were you stationed before this?”
“Hidden Leaf.”
“Oh, is that the truth? I have never been to the Hidden Leaf. What is it like? Do Hyuga really have white eyes?” asked Takashi.
“Hidden Leaf is a city that wakes up early and goes to sleep late. And yes, Hyuga have white eyes; quite striking if you ask me.”
They continued to talk about each other’s home lives and the difference between their shinobi experience. Takuma noticed that Takashi didn’t want to talk about his time in the Camp Husk, so Takuma stayed away from it.
“Here we are.”
They stopped in front of a tent. They stepped inside, and as Takashi had said, there were already people inside. Occupying the tent were two men, two women, and five children. It took Takuma one look to deduce that four adults were two couples and the five kids were their children. He could even assign the children to the couples based on their looks.
“This is Takuma; he’s a shinobi. He’s headed towards the border. He will be spending the night and leave early tomorrow.” Takashi was polite, but his words were firm; he was telling, not requesting.
Everyone in the tent looked at Takuma before nodding.
“Excellent. I would love to stay and continue the introduction, but I have work to do. Please make yourself comfortable,” Takashi said before leaving.
One of the men stepped forward and introduced himself. “My name is Chiasa. You can sleep here,” he pointed at an empty space inside the tent.
“My name is Takuma. Sorry for disturbing you.”
The other adults introduced themselves as well. Chiasa’s wife Miwa, and the other couple, Kichirou and Nana. The children weren’t introduced. Takuma chatted with the adults for a bit before heading back into town for some food.
By the time he returned, it was mealtime in the camp.
Takuma entered the tent, and the two families were sharing what was clearly emergency rations distributed as relief for those in the camp. Takuma was no stranger to crappy packaged food. There were military rations that he had eaten several times—those things didn’t taste good at all. And he was sure these civilian supplies were worse.
“Would you like some?” asked Chiasa.
“No, please, have your meal in peace. I will set up my bedroll here,” said Takuma.
As he set up his bedroll, the one named Nana asked him a question.
“You’re a shinobi?” she asked.
“I am. I am a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf,” said Takuma as he unpacked the roll from his backpack.
“But, you’re so young,” she said. “How can you be a shinobi?”
“Young people can be shinobi, ma’am,” he chuckled.
If it was before he lived in this world, he would’ve been confused by Nana’s question. In his former opinion, the world revolved around the shinobi. But that just wasn’t true. Shinobi weren’t ever present across the lands. They were in abundance in Hidden Villages like the Hidden Leaf, and they were densely present in all big cities, and important locations like border regions as a military force—but the presence of shinobi thinned as one moved away from those areas. In the deep countryside, people could go years between shinobi appearances.
Shinobi were mercenary-for-hire, and there was not much money to be earned in the boonies.
“They’re sending children to war? How could they,” Miwa muttered in disbelief.
“Do not worry, ma’am. I might look like… I might be a child, but I’m trained in the art of combat. Both our nations want this war to end, and if they thought I wasn’t right for the job, they wouldn’t have sent me,” Takuma smiled as he sat on his finished setting up his bedroll.
Takuma looked around, and the tent was filled with what looked like personal belongings, but having just packed up his house, he could tell that the things in the tent were bare essentials. These people had left in a hurry.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Takuma started. “How did you end up here? I’m assuming it was because of the war.”
Kichirou nodded. “Two months ago, a shinobi came to the village, telling us to leave the village as soon as possible. They said the enemy had moved closer, and the village was in danger. Not all people wanted to leave…. But we have children,” he looked at the boy and girl eating together, “so we left to be safe.”
“W-We had to leave everything behind,” said Nana. The toll of leaving her home so abruptly was clear to her. All four adults looked exhausted; even the children, none seemed to be older than five or six, looked worse from wear.
Kichirou hugged her from the side. “Two weeks ago, we got the news that the village was taken by the enemy. T-They don’t know what happened to those who stayed behind.”
Takuma felt a spike in his heart. He glanced at the children. What would have happened to them if their parents hadn’t made the right decision to leave?
“Mama?” one of Nana’s children looked at her.
Nana hurriedly wiped the tears building up in her eyes and smiled as she pulled the boy into her lap, hugging him tightly as she whispered comforting things into his ear.
“… All of you from the same village?” asked Takuma.
They nodded.
“What’s your plan from here on out?” asked Takuma. They had been in the camp for two months already; they had a roof over their head and food to fill their stomachs—but this was no place to raise children. He knew from some videos he had seen on the internet that refugees could live in camps for years, and there were even cases where an entire generation was raised in camps. He didn’t want that for anyone.
“Some people are planning a caravan to one of the big cities. We are thinking about joining them. We don’t know when this war will end, or if we ever will get to return to our homes. There will be work in the big city… we can start again,” said Chiasa, his voice hopeful.
It was a risky move. Leaving the camp meant no food, and there was no telling what would be waiting for them in the city. But if they were able to find work, it could indeed be a new start for the families. Their children could attend school and grow up in a decent environment.
The youngest of Chiasa’s children, a girl, walked to Takuma and placed a plushie in his lap.
“You want to play?” he asked.
The girl nodded.
“Uni, come back here, don’t disturb him!” Miwa said, hurriedly.
“It’s okay,” Takuma assured her. “I can play.” He looked down at Uni. “How do we play?”
“You don’t know how to play? Oh no, what should we do?” said Uni. “It’s okay I will teach you how to play. Listen carefully, okay?”
Takuma laughed.
Even in these destitute circumstances, children were glowing beacons of hope. As long as the children were nurtured, the future was bound to be bright.
“Okay.”
FictionOnlyReader
I welcome you to ARC-06
The War Arc.
Takuma had been in the Land of Hot Waters once, but he had only passed through the nation on his way to the Land of Frost. The journey was quite pleasant, even if he had nothing terrible memories of the destination. If Takuma weren’t on a clock and hadn’t set aside time for sightseeing because of how long it took to get the pass from Dr. Oichi on his recovery, he would’ve stayed at least two days in a tourist spot in the Land of Hot Waters.
The lack of time meant Takuma had to rush through the country and reach the border camp where he was stationed.
Takuma looked up at the sky; the sun was about to set. He had traveled during the night, but Takuma didn’t want to rush because he had almost reached the camp, and pulling an all-nighter would leave him tired on arrival, something he wanted to avoid. Takuma decided he would camp for the night and then resume early in the morning to reach in the afternoon.
Takuma knew a township nearby could be used as a rest point, but it meant he would be ending his journey two hours before he usually did, but Takuma decided to do it. Within half an hour, Takuma found the town, and the first thing he noticed upon entering was how bustling with activity and people the town was. The streets were more crowded than what he had seen in Hidden Leaf, which was surprising considering that the town wasn’t a prime tourist destination, nor was the town on a major trading route—and yet, Takuma felt as though he was in a major city.
It was intriguing, so Takuma asked the next shinobi guard he found.
“Hey, is it like this year-round? Crowded, isn’t it,” he asked.
“Not at all. I have been living in this town for a decade, and not once have there been this many people here,” said the middle-aged Hidden Steam shinobi.
“Then what’s the occasion?”
“They’re refugees displaced from their homes near the border. There’s even a camp outside the town for those who couldn’t afford to move. People have been moving westwards all year long. The war is running people’s lives. It’s a whole mess,” the shinobi looked deeply pained. It was expected; his country was toiling in a war they couldn’t fight.
He turned to look at Takuma. “You don’t look like you’re from here, little brother. Where are you going?”
“To the border.” Takuma introduced himself, “Hidden Leaf shinobi, joining the war to help our allies.”
“Oh! I did think you weren’t from the country. So, you’re from Land of Fire, huh. Well, allow me to welcome you to the country.”
They got to talking and exchanging information. Eventually, Takuma asked the man for a recommendation for an inn or a hotel, and they parted ways.
The plan was to book a room, go out to have some good local cuisine, and then turn in early to start his journey early into the morning. Alas, things didn’t go according to plan.
“You don’t have any rooms? Anything would do,” Takuma said to the hotel staff behind the front desk.
“Can’t help you. There’s no space left because of the refugees. I doubt you will find a room in the city for a while. This town wasn’t built to hold this many people. The folks with empty rooms in their home are renting them out to the travelers because of how much demand is there for a roof,” said the staff.
“Damn,” Takuma sighed.
“If you want a place to sleep, you can try the camp outside the town. You might get a piece of ground with a tent over your head. But be careful about your belongings, not much security. You will have to convince the shinobi there to let you in,” said the staff.
Takuma went to several more inns and hotels, but everything was complete. There was not a single room for him to sleep under tonight. Having run out of options, Takuma headed to the refugee camp. He had a tent of his own he could set up, but he needed a dry place, and the Land of Hot Waters had entered its monsoon season, which had made dry land sparse. There were shinobi managing the camp, so Takuma decided to ask them if he could sleep under one of their tents. He just needed a place on the floor, and he could sleep in his sleeping bag.
The camp was just an area occupied with poor-quality tents with tons of displaced citizens. The atmosphere was in stark difference from the town. The camp looked destitute and impoverished. As he walked through the camp, he could see people, and they seemed to have no energy in them.
The Land of Hot Waters wasn’t a poor country. In fact, it was the opposite. The country was well managed, and the citizens lived a comfortable life. But looking at the state of the camp, Takuma gathered how much the war had taken it out of the nation and how the people had been affected. He felt thankful for having first lived in a peaceful modern era, and then when he was displaced, he found himself living in the Hidden Leaf.
After asking around, Takuma found the shinobi. There was a better-quality tent in the back. Through the flaps, Takuma noticed a Hidden Leaf uniform, and he headed straight in. Takuma was noticed the moment he entered.
“And who might you be?” asked the man
“Genin Takuma of the Hidden Leaf, sir,” Takuma replied and showed his shinobi identification.
The man smiled as he rose up to shake hands with Takuma.
“What a pleasant surprise. I’m Genin Takashi. What brings you here?” said Takashi.
“I’m on my way to a border camp. I was wondering if I could get somewhere to sleep. I looked for a room in the town, but nothing was free. Just a dry piece of land for me to set up a tent would be more than enough.”
“Of course, of course,” Takashi was more than happy to host Takuma. “There’s no space in the staff tents, but you can stay in one of the civilian tents. You will have to share, but I will make sure the people in your tent are good folk.”
“I couldn’t ask more of you,” Takuma smiled.
As Takashi led him through the camp, Takuma opened a conversation.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you managing a refugee camp? Shouldn’t the Hidden Steam handle this,” he asked.
“Agreed, and this camp is handled by the Hidden Steam. There are three Hidden Steam genin who manage this camp. I’m only temporarily helping them out because this camp exceeded its intended capacity. I was at Camp Husk until a month ago, and they finally approved of my return, but they asked me to manage this camp until Hidden Steam can manage the situation. Two more weeks here, and I will return home,” Takashi sounded happy.
“That’s good, congratulations,” said Takuma.
“Thank you. So, where were you stationed before this?”
“Hidden Leaf.”
“Oh, is that the truth? I have never been to the Hidden Leaf. What is it like? Do Hyuga really have white eyes?” asked Takashi.
“Hidden Leaf is a city that wakes up early and goes to sleep late. And yes, Hyuga have white eyes; quite striking if you ask me.”
They continued to talk about each other’s home lives and the difference between their shinobi experience. Takuma noticed that Takashi didn’t want to talk about his time in the Camp Husk, so Takuma stayed away from it.
“Here we are.”
They stopped in front of a tent. They stepped inside, and as Takashi had said, there were already people inside. Occupying the tent were two men, two women, and five children. It took Takuma one look to deduce that four adults were two couples and the five kids were their children. He could even assign the children to the couples based on their looks.
“This is Takuma; he’s a shinobi. He’s headed towards the border. He will be spending the night and leave early tomorrow.” Takashi was polite, but his words were firm; he was telling, not requesting.
Everyone in the tent looked at Takuma before nodding.
“Excellent. I would love to stay and continue the introduction, but I have work to do. Please make yourself comfortable,” Takashi said before leaving.
One of the men stepped forward and introduced himself. “My name is Chiasa. You can sleep here,” he pointed at an empty space inside the tent.
“My name is Takuma. Sorry for disturbing you.”
The other adults introduced themselves as well. Chiasa’s wife Miwa, and the other couple, Kichirou and Nana. The children weren’t introduced. Takuma chatted with the adults for a bit before heading back into town for some food.
By the time he returned, it was mealtime in the camp.
Takuma entered the tent, and the two families were sharing what was clearly emergency rations distributed as relief for those in the camp. Takuma was no stranger to crappy packaged food. There were military rations that he had eaten several times—those things didn’t taste good at all. And he was sure these civilian supplies were worse.
“Would you like some?” asked Chiasa.
“No, please, have your meal in peace. I will set up my bedroll here,” said Takuma.
As he set up his bedroll, the one named Nana asked him a question.
“You’re a shinobi?” she asked.
“I am. I am a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf,” said Takuma as he unpacked the roll from his backpack.
“But, you’re so young,” she said. “How can you be a shinobi?”
“Young people can be shinobi, ma’am,” he chuckled.
If it was before he lived in this world, he would’ve been confused by Nana’s question. In his former opinion, the world revolved around the shinobi. But that just wasn’t true. Shinobi weren’t ever present across the lands. They were in abundance in Hidden Villages like the Hidden Leaf, and they were densely present in all big cities, and important locations like border regions as a military force—but the presence of shinobi thinned as one moved away from those areas. In the deep countryside, people could go years between shinobi appearances.
Shinobi were mercenary-for-hire, and there was not much money to be earned in the boonies.
“They’re sending children to war? How could they,” Miwa muttered in disbelief.
“Do not worry, ma’am. I might look like… I might be a child, but I’m trained in the art of combat. Both our nations want this war to end, and if they thought I wasn’t right for the job, they wouldn’t have sent me,” Takuma smiled as he sat on his finished setting up his bedroll.
Takuma looked around, and the tent was filled with what looked like personal belongings, but having just packed up his house, he could tell that the things in the tent were bare essentials. These people had left in a hurry.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Takuma started. “How did you end up here? I’m assuming it was because of the war.”
Kichirou nodded. “Two months ago, a shinobi came to the village, telling us to leave the village as soon as possible. They said the enemy had moved closer, and the village was in danger. Not all people wanted to leave…. But we have children,” he looked at the boy and girl eating together, “so we left to be safe.”
“W-We had to leave everything behind,” said Nana. The toll of leaving her home so abruptly was clear to her. All four adults looked exhausted; even the children, none seemed to be older than five or six, looked worse from wear.
Kichirou hugged her from the side. “Two weeks ago, we got the news that the village was taken by the enemy. T-They don’t know what happened to those who stayed behind.”
Takuma felt a spike in his heart. He glanced at the children. What would have happened to them if their parents hadn’t made the right decision to leave?
“Mama?” one of Nana’s children looked at her.
Nana hurriedly wiped the tears building up in her eyes and smiled as she pulled the boy into her lap, hugging him tightly as she whispered comforting things into his ear.
“… All of you from the same village?” asked Takuma.
They nodded.
“What’s your plan from here on out?” asked Takuma. They had been in the camp for two months already; they had a roof over their head and food to fill their stomachs—but this was no place to raise children. He knew from some videos he had seen on the internet that refugees could live in camps for years, and there were even cases where an entire generation was raised in camps. He didn’t want that for anyone.
“Some people are planning a caravan to one of the big cities. We are thinking about joining them. We don’t know when this war will end, or if we ever will get to return to our homes. There will be work in the big city… we can start again,” said Chiasa, his voice hopeful.
It was a risky move. Leaving the camp meant no food, and there was no telling what would be waiting for them in the city. But if they were able to find work, it could indeed be a new start for the families. Their children could attend school and grow up in a decent environment.
The youngest of Chiasa’s children, a girl, walked to Takuma and placed a plushie in his lap.
“You want to play?” he asked.
The girl nodded.
“Uni, come back here, don’t disturb him!” Miwa said, hurriedly.
“It’s okay,” Takuma assured her. “I can play.” He looked down at Uni. “How do we play?”
“You don’t know how to play? Oh no, what should we do?” said Uni. “It’s okay I will teach you how to play. Listen carefully, okay?”
Takuma laughed.
Even in these destitute circumstances, children were glowing beacons of hope. As long as the children were nurtured, the future was bound to be bright.
“Okay.”
FictionOnlyReader
I welcome you to ARC-06
The War Arc.
