I don't remember since when have people been praising me as a genius. Perhaps when my mother hears me mutter my first words, or when I get to talk earlier than others, or when I know how to read the room.
"Thank you, aunty. It smells nice," Minato thanked the lady with a slight bow and a smile.
"Ara, Ayase, your son is so polite!"
The lady wore a smile of delight. "Look at my own, always causing trouble. He refuses to sleep and always stays late at night and oh, I swear he always comes home with mud under his feet."
Ayase chuckled lightly. A 3-year-old child approached them with too much energy, tugging at his mother. "Ma! I want that too!" he pointed at the candy in Minato's hand.
"Ha?! No. You already stole them last night so no sweets for a week!"
The kid frowned his eyebrows, his face soured instantly. "It's unfair!"
Minato watched their interactions without judgment. He understood wants and needs. At times, he had wanted a different meal. He wished he could have some sweets. Or wanted mom to make the steam fish she made yesterday again because he loved it. The few toys he saw on the street looked nice; but he never asked for it.
He always thought of his mother first. He didn't want to trouble her, not when he knew she was still sad inside.
Ayase always asked him to join others to play in the park, or let him play with Nagisa. But when he joined, he felt alienated somehow. Not visibly, not really. He smiled and laughed; but he never quite laughed and smiled as much as the other kids.
It was kinda fun to spin the tops, to hit the marbles out of bound, hearing other kids get angry and competitive, and it was nice to feel the wind swinging on the swings. And yet, he would always look back at his mother at a distance and saw she was looking at him. But her gaze wasn't on him. It was a blank stare she had always had since then.
The heavy feeling was always there; his mother's grief filled every corner of their lives. He didn't remember how it felt to have no worry. That he only wished he could see his mother happy again.
Ayase snapped out of her daze, noticing her son had been looking at her for a while now.
"Minato? Are you done playing?"
"Mm." He just nodded and went to her. He looked at Nagisa on the other side, sitting quietly next to their mother with a newspaper in one hand, and a crayon in another. It was not an unusual sight for Minato. Everyone assumed she just enjoyed drawing on it but in Minato's eyes she was clearly reading them with interest.
"Kaa-san. Look." Nagisa showed her a bad drawing of Minato. Ayase let out a soft chuckle of amusement.
"It's pretty, Nana. Show it to your brother."
Nagisa turned to Minato and showed it. Minato's eyelid twitched slightly seeing the stick figure with spiky yellow hair - clearly the art was made with zero effort into it; he forced a smile on his lips.
"Nana-chan, that's nice."
Nagisa smiled for a second; then turned another page to draw. But her eyes were on the sentences written on the pages, not on what she was drawing. Minato can sense she was faking it for a while now, even when he tried to play with her. That she never really enjoyed it.
Just like mom who pretended to be happy around them to keep everyone happy.
***
When Ayase was called to duty; they were left to live by themselves. The aunty next door would come by to check up on them; only to find them completely fine and self-sufficient and stop checking on them after a few times.
Even Nagisa already took initiative to do household chores.
"Nana-chan, just play somewhere. You don't have to help."
"Why not." Nagisa ignored him and went to chop the vegetables on the board.
Minato wanted to say something, but then couldn't. "Okay then. Be careful with your fingers."
"I know."
Minato looked at her for a second before turning away to prepare the fish in the sink, gutting them. He was aware they weren't a normal sibling. Nagisa was, much like him, mature beyond her age.
Polite; quiet; obedient; genius; those were the words that their mother, the aunties and the neighbours describe them as. Sometimes Minato wondered if that made him and Nagisa different from other kids.
***
Nagisa looked at Minato for a second. She frowned when he was not looking.
He's too mature isn't he?
Not that it was a bad thing in her view. But it was objectively not normal from her standard reference. She wondered if it was because of how their mother acted since their father passed, or because he was too smart for his age.
Perhaps both.
They ate their meals silently. Minato didn't know how to converse with Nagisa. And so did Nagisa. Even so, Minato would try.
"Nana-chan. How does it taste?"
"Hm. It's good. I prefer it less salty, but it was fine as it is."
"Huh. I will use less salt next time, then…"
"Don't use my preference. If you like it like this just keep it this way."
The two stared at each other for a while. Each one wanted to accommodate the other; and in the end they would reach a stalemate.
"Okay." Minato can only utter the word, having no other meaningful reply. Nagisa felt less of a little sister when he never needed to take care of her, even when Minato felt he should - yet there was no space where he could be a brother to her.
***
"Kaa-san…" Minato kneeled on the grave of their mother. The weight filled his chest. He couldn't stop the tears from flowing.
You said… you said you will come back…
There wasn't even a body for them to see. He didn't even know how she died, or if she was thinking of them when she passed away.
Kaa-san… what do we do without you?
Minato's entire world plunged into cold and darkness. He clawed the soil beneath him, grabbing dirt in his hands as if trying to grasp her.
Why do you have to go…?
He grieved. He was sinking. The only light in his eyes fading as he looked at the name engraved on the stone.
"Nii-san."
The voice broke through, calling him back. He looked, seeing his sister. She reached her palm forward holding his back. It was not warm, but it was firmly holding him, it was strong; it was there to stop him from falling any further.
Minato bit her lips, his body trembling from the weight breaking him inside. He took a shuddering breath in, before wiping his tears.
He turned to face the gravestone.
"Kaa-san. We will be okay. Please don't worry about us. We have each other…"
***
Days and weeks passed since that day. Minato would gaze on the street of Konoha, at the children in the orphanage, at the shinobi coming back from their missions wounded. And yet, they wore smiles on their faces.
Whenever he visited their parents' graves, he saw others too. He was one amongst many who lost their parents to war, to conflict, to what a shinobi fights for.
He placed a wildflower he happened to find on their graves. Praying for their wellbeing in the Pure Land.
Nagisa too was closing her eyes. Not that Minato knew she didn't even believe in the Pure Land and was just paying respect to the graves.
"Hey… Nana."
"Why do they fight…"
"... why do they become shinobi?"
Nagisa opened her eyes, looking over their gravestones.
For a moment, she said nothing. There were too many answers to that question. Status, wealth, just because they wanted food and were malnourished orphans, because the village taught being shinobi as something heroic with embellished stories, because somewhere, someone always wanted to steal what another possessed badly enough to have people kill each other for it.
None of the answers seemed useful to the boy kneeling before their parents' graves.
Nagisa lowered her hand to wipe the dirt from the stones.
"Because they are things they don't want taken away."
Nagisa continued quietly.
"A home. People they care about. Perhaps because they feel it's their duty and responsibility…" Her eyes drifted toward one of the shinobi standing over a gravestone with a dull expression far from them.
"And perhaps they have no choice. It was the only thing they knew." What Nagisa meant was, the fact that this village was Konoha, a military centered village whose entire purpose was to nurture shinobi. People learned honor, justice, the so-called Will of Fire, and they absorbed the propaganda surrounding them. It was the only thing they knew.
Minato's finger curled against his knees. His lips quivered slightly.
"Then… why would kaa-san and ottou-san…?"
Nagisa went silent. She couldn't answer questions that couldn't be verified.
"I don't know." Her eyes lowered. She saw Minato clenching his hands over his knees, wanting answers.
"But…" she mulled over her answers.
"When she promised she would come back home…"
"She meant it. She wanted to come back, nii-san."
A gasp escaped Minato's lips. Warm stings rose from his throat, into his eyes. Tears fell silently from him.
She wanted to come back…
"Then… Why did she go…?"
Nagisa stared at the grave. Because, wanting to live never prevented anyone from being sent to war. Because she couldn't refuse the order. Because she believed leaving them temporarily was necessary. Because she cared more about her duty than their children.
But she had to choose something that wasn't too devastating for him.
"Maybe she thought going was what allowed us to stay here."
"Someone has to fight. If not her, someone else would be sent away. If no one wanted to fight, those who wanted to steal would come and take everything from here."
Minato looked at her.
"Then, shinobi protect the people?"
Nagisa frowned. That was absurdly too simple. Shinobi protects their own people. But they were also used to kill someone's mother, someone's father, someone's child.
Nagisa sighed. "Sometimes."
Minato looked uncertain at her answer.
She looked at the Konoha symbol engraved upon the memorial stones.
"They can protect. They can hurt. They either make good decisions or stupid ones. And even if they believe they are doing something for good, they could still be wrong."
Minato listened silently, digesting them as best as he could. His eyebrows furrowed deeply.
"So… how do we know if it is right?"
Nagisa almost clicked her tongue. It was too complex to answer. But if she had to put her own experience as a soldier, she had her own answer.
"You think before you act."
"You think what would happen if you do something, and what if you don't. You try to not make other people pay for things that could have been avoided."
"And if you had to anyway, make sure it was justified, make sure you truly think there is a good enough reason worth the cost."
Minato stared at her for a long time.
Nagisa realised she might have said too much. And this was probably not a normal conversation to have with a child of Minato's age.
Minato looked back toward the grave, then at the shinobi far away, grieving the same.
"Then… I want to become a shinobi."
Nagisa snapped her head instantly toward him. She had NOT expected such a conclusion. She was baffled and almost felt searing heat in her chest.
"Why?" Her voice was unintentionally sharper.
Minato's expression was still wet with tears, but his eyes were no longer dull.
"Because… people like her… are the reasons many can stay here. Is that right Nana-chan?"
Nagisa clicked her tongue. It was not… entirely incorrect. If no one fights, orphans like them would be automatically enlisted for the village anyways. Once they were old enough, the village would register them into Ninja Academy with no say in the matter. Even those from shinobi clans will have to send someone to the battlefield to keep their power, wealth and status. Unfortunately, someone volunteering did prevent total forced enlistments and those volunteers let them have some room for choices.
"Yes." But Nagisa was not simply agreeing to it.
"But it doesn't have to be you." This mattered.
Minato looked at the gravestones again.
"I know."
Nagisa's expression remained annoyed. She couldn't tell if Minato was persuaded out of it or not. Not that it would change the outcome of their eventual enlistment into Ninja Academy though.
"Then what about you? What do you think about being a shinobi?"
"I don't care about protecting others; other than you. Nor do I care to risk my life for anything. It was never reasonable to bet your entire life. I only want a way for me to live with my head held high, enjoy what I enjoy, and stand proud of what I do; with reasonable costs and benefits to me and others around me."
Nagisa let out a long breath after answering. She was not even sure if Minato understood.
"Nana-chan… you always know everything…" Minato looked away, looking at their parents' graves.
"No. I don't know everything. But at least I know what I want." Nagisa paused for a second.
"You are still a child. You have plenty of time to think."
"Yes…" Minato digested her words. He looked at their parents' gravestones one last time.
***