Chapter 113: Souta's Aspiration
The words of that child felt like a beam of light piercing through a barren desert—unexpected, yet powerful enough to awaken a long-buried hope. Like a single drop of dew falling upon burning sand, it carried with it the promise of life to something that was almost withered away.
The Third Kazekage, Aomi, and the Head of the Ninja Academy could only fall silent for a moment. Their gazes locked on the boy, eyes reflecting a storm of layered emotions: astonishment, admiration, and a tinge of bewilderment.
Beneath those looks lay an unspoken realization—the child standing before them was no longer just a mere student being tested with simple words, but a seed. A seed that, one day, might truly have the power to reshape the face of Sunagakure—a village so harsh, arid, and filled with suffering.
"To become more advanced and developed… Could you explain a little more what you mean by becoming more advanced and developed?" asked the Third Kazekage, a faint smile slowly blooming on his face. It was not a broad smile, but just enough to breathe life into the heavy atmosphere of the room.
His gaze was sharp, full of authority, yet this time it carried with it a sincere curiosity, as though the Kazekage was testing not the boy's knowledge, but the conviction rooted in his heart—not to break him, but to measure the depth of his resolve.
Souta swallowed hard. His throat was dry, as though the desert's arid air had seeped into him. He could feel the leader's piercing gaze, one that seemed to bore straight into him, drilling past flesh and bone until it reached the very core of his heart.
He drew in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in slight haste before finally parting his lips. The words that escaped were cautious, faltering at first, yet behind that hesitation was a determination that yearned to emerge.
"I… I want Sunagakure to have proper facilities," Souta said. His voice trembled at the beginning, fragile like a thin branch caught in the wind.
But the more he spoke, the steadier his tone became—his voice gradually firming, gaining strength with each word, carrying with it the growing flame of conviction.
"So that the villagers no longer have to live with the constant fear of the scorching heat that burns during the desert day, or the biting cold that creeps in during the night." Souta lowered his head slightly, his eyes staring at the cold floor, yet within his mind he saw something else—the blazing sun above the sand dunes, searing the skin, and the frigid night air that pierced into the marrow every time darkness swallowed the village.
"I want them to have enough food, with supplies that never run short, and clean, abundant water—water they don't have to fight over, or struggle to find in the unforgiving wasteland of this desert." Souta's voice paused for a moment.
His gaze turned distant, as though piercing through the walls of the room. In his eyes now appeared a vision of a different Sunagakure: a village with clear wells, green fields blooming amidst the desert, children running freely without fear of thirst, and mothers smiling without anxiety about tomorrow's meals.
His small hand slowly clenched into a fist at his side, a sign that he was not merely speaking idle words, but harboring a true resolve behind every syllable.
With a steadier tone, Souta continued, "I also want this village to have proper means of transportation—something that can make travel faster. That way, the merchants of our village can trade their goods outside more easily, without being burdened by the exhausting journey across the desert. I want our trade routes to open, so that wealth and knowledge from beyond can flow in smoothly."
The room fell into silence once more. Only Souta's soft voice lingered in the air, echoing faintly against the quiet walls.
...
Chapter 114: Must One Become Kazekage?
Aomi, who stood silently by Souta's side, unconsciously drew in a deeper breath, her chest rising ever so slightly as though the weight of Souta's words pressed upon her as well. Meanwhile, the Head of the Ninja Academy furrowed his brow, caught somewhere between being mesmerized and deeply contemplative, as if Souta's declaration had shaken something within him.
There was a spark—faint, yet undeniable—born in Souta's eyes. Even though his face was still taut with tension, that spark betrayed the heavy determination of someone carrying a burden far beyond his tender years. It was the kind of expression no ordinary child should have worn, and yet it shone there, stubborn and unyielding.
"I want the villagers to find comfort," Souta continued, his voice no longer merely steady but carrying a newfound warmth, a resonance that felt unmistakably human. "With tools and technologies that can ease the burdens of their everyday lives. I want every family to have the chance to live better, without constantly being haunted by the harshness of this environment."
As he spoke those words, Souta's gaze wandered, tilting slightly toward the window at his side. Through the thin curtain, shafts of desert sunlight slipped in, scattering into shimmering particles of gold. Beyond, endless dunes stretched into the horizon, their brilliance both breathtaking and cruel. The desert was beautiful, yes, but it was also merciless—a land that gave nothing freely.
Souta's breath faltered for a moment, a hitch of hesitation lodged in his throat. His mouth felt dry, parched like the desert outside, and instinctively his eyes flicked toward the Kazekage, stealing a glance at the formidable leader seated before him. But almost immediately Souta lowered his head again, hiding the nervous tremor that briefly betrayed him.
In that pause, however, he found his courage once more. When his voice returned, it carried a deeper weight, more serious, vibrating faintly with the timbre of determination. It was the sound of a boy forcing his own fear into submission.
"Beyond that," Souta pressed on, "I want the ninja to have proper equipment—tools, weapons, and everything they need. With those, they can fight more effectively, defend themselves better, and stand their ground."
Lifting his head slightly, Souta locked his gaze on the Kazekage. Though his small frame quivered, as though trembling from an invisible storm inside, his eyes refused to waver.
"They should also have a proper place to train," he continued, his voice now carrying a stronger current. "A place where they can sharpen their skills until they become stronger, more prepared to face anything that might come their way." His words flowed with an increasing conviction, as though each syllable was a brick he laid, constructing the towering wall of his resolve.
By the end, Souta's small hand clenched tightly into a fist, the knuckles paling under the pressure. His fingers dug into his palm so hard that they almost trembled from the strain. His eyes, once shaky and uncertain, now blazed with an unmistakable fire—a clarity that seemed to push aside the shadow of doubt.
And there he was, meeting the Kazekage's gaze with a boldness uncharacteristic of one so young. "And lastly… I want this village to have a system of protection. A system of guards, systematic and well-trained, capable of preventing any attack. Or a barrier Fuinjutsu—a sealing technique strong enough to shield the entirety of Sunagakure. Anything… anything that can guarantee the safety of the villagers."
Souta's voice softened as he spoke those final words, but rather than weaken, the softness pressed down with gravity, each word heavy with meaning. "So that they no longer have to live in fear. So they no longer need to worry, should an outside attack come crashing into this village. I want them to be able to sleep peacefully, to rest in certainty, believing without doubt that this village truly is their home."
"…So that is your ambition…" The Third Kazekage finally spoke, breaking the silence.
His voice was calm, but beneath it lingered the authority of a man who carried the weight of countless lives on his shoulders. A faint smile tugged at his lips—not mockery, not dismissal, but the sharp smile of one testing, probing. His eyes, however, gleamed with the precision of a hawk, dissecting the truth behind every syllable uttered by the boy before him.
"I am surprised by your dream," he admitted, his tone deliberate. "But do you think you can accomplish all of that without becoming Kazekage?"
"…Must I become Kazekage in order to do all those things?" Souta finally asked in return, his voice laced with genuine confusion. His young face bore an innocent bewilderment, his brows furrowing as his wide eyes searched for understanding. It was the face of a child who had spoken from the depths of his heart, only to encounter the invisible chains of authority that bound the world around him.
Though he had lived in Sunagakure for over six years—lived in this world of shinobi, in the very universe of Naruto—Souta often still felt like an outsider. A foreigner, not of blood or name, but of thought and instinct. There were rules here, customs and unspoken laws that dictated the movement of common people, rules that Souta could not always grasp.
For him, much of this world remained an enigma. And among the many uncertainties that clouded his understanding, one question now stood above all: was true change reserved only for those who sat in the highest seat of power? Was it only the Kazekage who had the authority to alter the face of the village, to shape the lives of its people?
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