Chapter 88

After finishing the fuinjutsu lesson with Master Shuzo, I decided to walk to the Senju compound to see if Genta was home. If he was, I'd ask him if we could start training in taijutsu over the summer vacation. I wasn't exactly sure where the compound was, so I asked the Academy guards for directions, which they provided with amused smiles.

Walking through the village was always a treat. The streets were vibrant, alive with the daily buzz of villagers moving in every direction. Merchants loudly called out deals from colorful stalls that overflowed with fresh fruits, aromatic spices, and handmade crafts. The enticing smells from restaurants and food carts mingled in the warm air, making my stomach quietly protest despite having eaten earlier. Occasionally, shinobi dashed along rooftops, casting brief shadows onto the busy streets below. The bright sun overhead provided pleasant warmth without the oppressive heat that would surely come later in the season. Konoha felt energetic, welcoming, and filled with purpose.

However, the further I walked toward the Senju compound, the more subdued the village atmosphere became. Busy shops gradually turned into quiet, empty pathways. Colorful stalls gave way to neatly kept gardens and houses that seemed far more serene. Soon, I was walking on well-maintained stone paths lined with tall, carefully trimmed trees whose thick leaves cast gentle shade on the streets, creating a cool and peaceful ambiance. It felt almost as if I were crossing an invisible boundary into a different part of Konoha.

Eventually, I reached the entrance of the Senju compound. Massive wooden gates stood before me, weathered by age yet clearly cared for, painted with the faded symbol of the great Senju clan. Standing guard in front was an incredibly old shinobi. The wrinkles lining his face were so deep and pronounced that it seemed as if each one told its own long story.

I couldn't help but think, "What exactly is he guarding? His remaining years?" However, I managed to keep that thought to myself. With polite formality, I asked, "Excuse me, sir. Is Genta Senju home? I'm his classmate, Noa. I'd like to talk with him."

The elderly guard eyed me suspiciously for a long moment before finally nodding. His voice creaked as he spoke, "Young Genta mentioned you'd probably come around someday. He told me to let you in if you ever appeared. He's home. You can enter."

The old man slowly pushed the heavy gate open, joints popping audibly from both the gate and his back. Once it was fully open, he turned toward me again, squinting and wagging a finger sternly. "Don't you dare try anything funny. I'm watching you."

I resisted the overwhelming urge to say, "I'm not convinced you can even see me clearly," and simply nodded respectfully. Honestly, ever since dealing with my clones' constant sass, my own internal snark had reached dangerous levels. It was ironic, really, how my clones resembled my own hidden thoughts more closely than I did these days. I hoped that wouldn't become a real problem in the future.

Stepping through the gates, the change in atmosphere was immediate. The Senju compound felt like an entirely different world. The wide, quiet streets were perfectly clean, beautifully paved with smooth stones, and bordered by gardens filled with vibrant flowers, neatly trimmed hedges, and gentle fountains. Despite its immaculate appearance, the compound felt eerily empty. Many houses had closed shutters and doors, clearly unoccupied for quite some time. It seemed almost untouched by the vibrant life and cheerful chaos I'd left behind moments ago.

The few houses that showed signs of life usually had an elderly man or woman, or sometimes an old couple sitting together, basking in the golden sun. Each of them smiled warmly and enthusiastically greeted me, asking who I was and whom I sought. It was clear the presence of younger people was rare here. Each elder I met seemed genuinely delighted by my visit and eagerly directed me toward Genta's home. Interestingly, despite their advanced ages, their postures remained straight and dignified, their bodies surprisingly spry and emanating robust, if somewhat diminished, chakra signatures.

I finally reached Genta's house, a modest yet beautifully built structure nestled among neatly landscaped gardens. I knocked once, but when no one answered immediately, I glanced around to make sure I was in the right place. As I prepared to knock again, the door swung open abruptly, revealing an older man who bore a remarkable resemblance to Genta. We both narrowed our eyes at each other, each silently assessing the other until I finally spoke.

"Ah, hello, sir. I'm Noa, a friend of Genta's. Is he home?"

The old man's expression quickly softened, and he nodded, smiling gently. "I'm his father, Takemaru Senju. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, young Noa. I've heard quite a bit about you."

I was genuinely surprised that even someone as venerable as him knew of me, but before I could ask anything further, he turned slightly and called into the house, "Genta! Your friend Noa is here."

Immediately, the sound of rapid footsteps approached. Genta burst from the interior of the house, a wide, excited grin spreading across his face. "Noa's here!" he shouted happily.

Given the compound's population, or lack of it, it wasn't hard to understand Genta's excitement. There clearly weren't any kids his age around to play or hang out with. Aside from Daiken-sensei, who definitely didn't count as young or playful, Genta probably felt incredibly isolated here.

Takemaru invited me warmly into their home as Genta and I launched into enthusiastic conversation.

"I'm so glad you're here! But why'd you come all this way?" Genta asked eagerly.

"I wanted to start training taijutsu with you during our summer vacation, if that's alright," I explained straightforwardly.

Genta immediately brightened even further, puffing up proudly and shifting his voice dramatically to mimic an ancient, wise master. "There's much I can teach you, young Noa! But I like your enthusiasm. Let us begin…"

Before he could continue his theatrics, his father swiftly knocked him lightly on the head. Genta began hopping around dramatically, rubbing his head while Takemaru spoke calmly. "Since when did you become an expert, son? Daiken and I taught you everything you know. Are you really so skilled already that you can teach others?"

Genta's expression shifted to a mixture of complaint and embarrassment. Takemaru then turned his sharp, assessing gaze onto me. "Your body is incredibly developed for someone so young. Your chakra also feels exceptionally sharp and controlled. Quite impressive."

I couldn't help but silently comment, "Like father, like son," noticing how similar Takemaru's serious demeanor was to Genta's exaggerated imitation.

"Tell me, Noa," Takemaru asked seriously, "why exactly do you want to learn our Senju taijutsu?"

I answered honestly, "From what I've seen of Genta's taijutsu, the Senju style is aggressive and relies on physical strength and large chakra reserves. I think it's a perfect match for me."

Takemaru nodded thoughtfully. "Daiken spoke highly of you. Meeting you now, I can see why." His eyes narrowed slightly in contemplation. "However, the Senju style is extremely demanding, and it belongs exclusively to our clan."

I understood his hesitation immediately. "If it's secret or forbidden to outsiders, I absolutely understand. The Academy's taijutsu is good enough for me. I would never want to cause trouble."

Genta, visibly distressed, pleaded, "Father, come on! Right now, I'm the only one learning it. There's no one else young enough in our clan to even practice properly with me."

Takemaru sighed deeply, then nodded slowly. "Most of the elders who might object are long gone, and the few left barely remember their own names. Fine, I suppose there's no harm. But promise me two things."

I met his serious gaze earnestly. "Of course."

"First, never tell anyone outside this house that you are learning it, not even other members of the Senju clan. Second, do not pass it on to anyone else. It demands exceptional chakra reserves and physical strength, and very few shinobi in the village could handle it safely."

I nodded enthusiastically, excitement surging through me. Genta cheered happily, finally getting the training partner he longed for. Takemaru eyed his son sternly, causing Genta to immediately quiet down, though his joy remained evident.

Takemaru guided us to a spacious courtyard behind the house. The grass was trimmed short and old wooden training posts stood at one side, their surfaces scarred from years of practice. Smooth stones marked footwork drills and the shade from a few tall trees cast cool patches across the open space. It felt calm, but it was clear this place had seen generations of training.

Genta began stretching energetically as Takemaru addressed me gravely. "It's time to introduce you to the strongest taijutsu style in Konoha, young Noa. Are you ready?"

A broad grin stretched across my face as I replied, brimming with confidence, "I was born ready. Let's do this."