Chapter 30: The Crashing Wave and the Responsibility of Protection

The Fifth Year Since the Founding of Konoha — Kenichi's Age: 9 and a Half

Before the sun rose, my body was already in motion. Morning wasn't a beginning for me—it was merely an extension of a long night filled with planning, reflection, and the weight of responsibility. I stood at the door of my little sister Haru's room, watching her sleep peacefully, and felt a calm I hadn't known before.

"Every time I look at Haru sleeping before heading out to train, I remember—I'm not training for myself alone... but to protect her too."

I stepped into Training Ground 2. It had been reserved for Dai and me since the exams ended. The air was still soaked in the scent of dew, and the sky's edges barely held the light. But I wasn't there to reflect. I came to test something new—something that might change how I fight.

The First Crashing Wave.

I gathered chakra in my legs, synced with my breath, tightened the muscles in my calves, and launched forward. I felt an internal burst in my right leg, followed by a soft, muffled sound—like an underground explosion—and a brief shock as if the wind slapped my body from within. It was as if my body released a sudden air bullet.

But my balance broke. I dropped to my knees, pain spreading through the muscles.

I bit down half a senzu bean and backed off from using full force. I wasn't here for a quick win... but to refine myself, step by step.

"An attack doesn't only mean striking down the enemy... it means shattering my own limits."

A few minutes later, Dai arrived at the grounds. He was carrying a bag heavier than usual. His gaze mixed excitement with worry before he began mimicking my last move. He tried to activate the technique as he had seen me do it. Within seconds, he stumbled and slammed into the ground, his shoulder crashing against the stone edge.

I rushed to him, checked his shoulder. A heavy bruise, but no fracture.

"Why?"

"I wanted to do it like you... to be like you, Kenichi."

I pulled out a simple medicinal ointment and started rubbing it into the bruised spot. I took a deep breath, then said:

"You're not meant to be like me, Dai… but to surpass me in your own way."

I handed him a breathing diagram I'd been working on—basic lines outlining energy inputs and outputs across the body.

"Start here. This isn't a fixed formula—it's a starting point. Don't become someone's shadow."

Dai didn't reply, but he looked at me with eyes full of respect and gratitude.

—

The next day at noon, I went with Haru to the public park. She was chasing butterflies, laughing with her bright, childlike joy. I noticed a blonde girl with short hair and unusually sharp features for her age, leaping over rocks as if in a make-believe battle. It was Tsunade.

From a distance, I noticed a woman in a simple kimono with an aura of calm and a soft smile—Mito Uzumaki, the wife of the First Hokage.

She approached us with a gentle smile, glancing at Haru and Tsunade.

"Looks like they've bonded quickly."

I nodded respectfully. "It's an honor for my sister to befriend someone carrying the legacy of the Senju clan."

She replied quietly:

"A true warrior doesn't fear losing their power... but fears using it without regard for those they love."

I looked at Haru, laughing, then at Tsunade, shouting excitedly: "I'm a ninja!"

"Those who love truly… must learn to fight anew each day."

—

Days later, Haru suddenly fell ill. Fever. Cough. Her cheeks flushed red like autumn leaves. I forgot about training, about plans—her room became my battlefield.

I boiled herbs, prepared compresses, watched her breathing, and flipped through my notebooks between tasks. There was something in those moments that outweighed dozens of battles… a fight between fear and love.

"If I can't protect those around me, all my strength is meaningless."

"True strength begins when you break… not when you triumph."

On the third day, Tsunade visited us with her grandmother Mito. They brought fruit and herbs. Tsunade sat by Haru, gently wiping her forehead, then turned to her grandmother with childlike curiosity:

"Grandma... if the fever's from excess chakra, can we use a medical seal? Or maybe push out the bad energy like you do?"

Mito chuckled softly. "Not everything needs a seal, little one. Sometimes, warmth and patience are enough."

Tsunade pouted stubbornly. "But I'm going to learn everything... and make everyone heal faster!"

Haru laughed despite her weakness, then looked at me and asked in a faint voice:

"Big brother... do you think I can be a ninja too? Just a little?"

I gently took her hand and said:

"If that's what you want... then you've already taken your first step."

A warm silence filled the room, broken only by the soft breaths of the two girls and the quiet wisdom of a woman who had witnessed Konoha's birth through mature eyes.

Before leaving, Mito placed her hand on my shoulder and said:

"Those who care for the weak deserve to be strong. Those who understand that power is meant to protect loved ones—not dominate—are the ones most worthy of it."

—

On the final day of the break, I returned to the training ground. The sun was rising slowly, the earth was cold, but my heart was burning.

I focused my chakra, tightened my body, and launched.

The Crashing Wave—in its current form, more like a small earthquake lacking balance. But its aim: to be a focused storm that shatters the opponent's footing without warning.

My foot struck the ground. The air shook. A wooden pillar snapped. The technique wasn't perfect—but it was a beginning.

I looked ahead, then tied a new headband across my forehead.

"I won't go back to who I was."

End of Chapter