And so, left alone, surrounded by whispering leaves and distant bird calls, I found myself once again alone not only with nature — but also with the thoughts I had tried to escape for so long.
I sat, staring into the silent earth, at barely visible paths and swaying bushes, trying not to get distracted. But they crept up — the thoughts I had avoided, drowning them out with constant training, tasks, and forced tension.
And now — in the silence — they caught up with me.
My native world.
The reality I left behind. Or… that left me.
I've been here a long time. I almost forgot how my native tongue sounds. Almost forgot the taste of familiar food. But every day I had to push away thoughts — about boredom, about home, about what once was. About those who stayed there.
Family.
My grandmother and grandfather… They were all I had. They raised me, held me when I fell, stayed silent when I needed to make a choice.
But now they're gone.
That world…
It brings me only cruel, bitter, harsh nostalgia.
Memories seemed to be covered in dust and blurred. I tried to recall their faces — and suddenly realized: I couldn't.
I couldn't remember exactly how they looked.
It struck me — sharply, like a blow to the chest.
Only feelings remained.
Warmth.
Calm.
The pain of loss.
I closed my eyes for a second. Took a deep breath.
"Enough," I whispered to myself.
I need to let go.
I need to stop living between worlds.
There's no road back — and no point in returning. That world is now just a shadow.
But here — I am a shinobi.
This is my second chance.
I opened my eyes. My head cleared a little, thoughts retreated like fog under the sun.
I shifted my gaze to the forest.
And then… I noticed movement.
Something was happening — among the trees, deep inside. A branch swayed, though there was no wind. Too evenly.
My instinct snapped awake immediately.
I squinted, lowering my hand to the bag of tools.
"I need to focus," I said quietly to myself.
Only a couple of minutes passed as I refocused on watching, when among the dense trees, closer to the clearing, two figures appeared.
They moved fast but not chaotically — deliberately, and quite confidently.
Uniform...
Yes, definitely — the uniform of the Land Village. Characteristic protective vests, muted shades of brown and gray, patches on their shoulders. Faces partially hidden — but without a doubt, these were shinobi from Iwagakure.
I immediately pulled out a scroll and quickly started jotting notes:
"Two individuals, Iwagakure. Appeared from the eastern side of the clearing. Movement: fast, oriented confidently."
I watched every step without taking my eyes off them. They moved almost silently, communicating with gestures. One of them periodically looked back — covering the rear.
They ran in a semicircle — almost half a kilometer along the edge of the clearing, not entering the center.
And — suddenly — disappeared.
But here's what was strange: the clearing in front of me was clear, like the palm of a hand...
And they did not appear at the other end. I checked twice. No tracks, not the slightest movement.
They should have come out — but didn't.
That could only mean one thing.
"There's something there," I whispered, narrowing my eyes.
Either they went around, using a bypass,
or — and this was much more likely — where they disappeared there was a hidden entrance or shelter.
I immediately added to the scroll:
"Did not appear at the clearing exit. Likely: hidden passage, underground route, or base point. Location: southeastern edge of the clearing, near dense thicket."
My heart quickened slightly.