Riki House

Arriving home, Riki slowly pushed the door open, untying the sash that held his tunic to his body. The smell of hot tea and cooked rice filled the air, mixed with the faint aroma of incense that his mother used to light at night.

"I'm home." He said, without raising his voice too much.

"It's about time." Tekka replied from the sofa, with a scroll in his hands. "If you took any longer, your mother would come after you with the Ketsuryūgan activated."

"I would have found you, don't worry." Akemi commented, emerging from the kitchen with a bowl of fruit in her hands. "Good night, my little hurricane."

Riki smiled. He left his shoes next to the door, crossed the room and threw himself back on the tatami, arms open.

"I'm exhausted, today was the worst…"

"Another failure?" Tekka asked, without judgment.

"Another beautiful and painful failure." Riki replied, raising his eyes to the ceiling. — I feel like I'm walking in circles.

Akemi sat down next to him and began to gently massage his shoulders.

— You're not walking in circles, my dear, you're building a staircase. And staircases take time to build.

Tekka closed the scroll. — And even if you were in circles... sometimes spinning is also necessary to understand your own axis.

— Are you competing in metaphors now? Riki asked.

— Always. Akemi replied, laughing.

Tekka closed the scroll and put it aside, adjusting his posture to observe him better.

— You don't need to prove anything to anyone, Riki. You just need to keep walking, we see you, even when you think you're standing still.

— Still, I wish the seals would work... He murmured. — I wanted to show that I can do it, not to you, but to myself.

Akemi ran her fingers through her son's hair, smiling tenderly.

"So, how was your day?" Riki asked, already relaxing under his mother's care.

"I tested two new genjutsus on a chuunin who irritated me on patrol. He saw his worst enemies hunting them for half an hour."

"You've shown us many things, Riki. Your strength, your determination. Your strength, and your kindness!"

Riki sighed, closing his eyes. Tekka then approached, sitting on the other side of the mat, the three of them remained there in silence.

"When I was a child, your grandfather used to say that a ninja's true strength was not what he did on the battlefield, but rather what he preserved when he returned home."

Akemi added softly:

"You don't need to be perfect, my son. You are already the anchor that keeps us together." Riki was silent for a while, then opened his eyes and sat up.

— Thank you!

Tekka put her arm around his shoulders, pulling him close.

— We don't wait for you to come back because we hope you win. We wait because we love you.

The family continued eating dinner that night, Riki devoured his food and after his bath went to bed.

Already lying down, Akemi entered the room, Akemi leaned her forehead against Riki's and whispered:

— Good night, my little hurricane.

Riki smiled, his eyes filled with tears. And that night, he fell asleep feeling, more than ever, that this cruel and unpredictable world still had a home.