"That will be the final batch," remarked Takehiko, as I meticulously divided the dough into 30 smaller portions.

To start, I lightly coated my hands with a touch of rice flour and delicately lifted the segmented sections of dough. With a gentle roll between my palms and a soft application of pressure, I transformed them into small spheres.

As soon as a sphere was meticulously shaped, it found its place in the pot of boiling water, where Takehiko diligently managed the Dango's boiling process.

Amid the rhythmic task of shaping and arranging the dough, memories of the past month spent here flooded my mind.

It has been more than a month since I arrived in this peculiar place, and I have managed to come to terms with my circumstances. The external situation may have shifted, but I remain the same—I am still Musashi.

That too is a problem. I thought I would have found something, grasped onto something by now, but I still don't know what to do.

I have nothing to do. Spending a whole month on mundane D-rank missions and helping out Takehiko on the sweet stall hasn't led me anywhere.

But it isn't too bad.

A life such as this isn't too bad. I mean, what more could a man ask for?

Food to sustain, mundane missions to do, and sweets to make.

But I cannot settle here.

Cannot settle until I grasp true strength.

I managed to get an inkling of it, in my last battle, with the Uchihas. But it was too faint, I couldn't hold onto it.

I only know that killing countless for the sake of it isn't the way.

A sigh escaped my lips as I deftly shaped the last few pieces.

The sound of boiling water filled the room, all the while neither of us spoke a word, focused on our actions and thoughts.

With the completion of the final roll, I carefully placed it into the pot.

A quick dusting of my hands and a thorough rinse rid my palms of the lingering dough.

If I manage to grasp it one more time, then I'm sure I could hold onto it, then I could rest at ease, and spend a mundane life forever.

Having finished boiling the entire batch of dangos, Takehiko turned off the flame and proceeded to arrange the dangos in a neat, orderly stack.

Simultaneously, I positioned the tray of skewers next to him. Together, we both started pricking the dangos into the skewer.

"You know." Takehiko said, breaking the silence.

"You always look like you are suffering, Musashi."

"You can't stay here for long." His voice now carried a hint of concern with it.

"Whatever it is that you are seeking isn't here."

A sigh involuntarily escaped my lips once again.

"Yeah. I know, I know," I murmured softly

…

"7, 8, 9…" I counted as the stone gracefully skipped across the water's surface, finally succumbing to the depths after nine skips. Searching for another flat stone, my attention shifted to a group of children playing joyfully at a distance.

These kids, likely around the age of 6 or 7, were also skipping stones by the lake. Their game had turned into a friendly competition between two kids at a time.

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The victor would break into a radiant smile as if he held all the happiness in the world.

Meanwhile, the defeated would momentarily wear a crestfallen expression, only to quickly rebound and celebrate the success of another friend, casting aside their prior loss.

A smile involuntarily grew on my face.

With a gentle lean towards the ground, I reclined and gazed up at the bright sky above

"What's there to be worried about?" I whispered to myself, my words carried away by the gentle breeze.

The sun was still high up.

Maybe, I could do another mission, I pondered.

Hmm.

That wouldn't be too bad.

…

I once again dragged my body through the mission centre, getting the necessary payment from the Chunin, I looked around as something felt odd today.

A group of Genin had gathered in a tightly-knit cluster, their attention fixated on a secluded corner of the room.

A collective hope radiated from their determined expressions, each of them seemingly prepared for an impending battle.

Lost in the rhythm of my own movements, I unwittingly gravitated towards the same corner of the room.

There, affixed to the wall, was a small notice that immediately seized my attention.

Perusing the contents, I discerned that it was a form of recruitment of sorts for Genin. They aimed to handpick a single Genin from among the interested in the Genin corps to be placed in a Jonin lead three-man team.

Attention,

Recruitment of Genin into the fast-track team.

Test to be conducted at training ground 46 by 8 am.

Interested Genin are requested to attend.

The three-man team was akin to a fast track course to climb up the shinobi ladder quickly. Only Genin with exceptional talent were picked in such teams. It was surprising for them to rely on the Genin Corps to pick a member for such a team.

My curiosity sated, I turned away from the scene, resuming my departure from the premises.

…

The sound of boiling water resonated just as I finished cutting the vegetables.

Picking the sliced vegetables from the tray, I gently dropped them into the boiling water.

A pinch of salt and a dash of pepper followed my intention to maintain a delicate balance of flavours, ensuring the dish remained pleasantly mild rather than overly spicy.

Taking a seat on a nearby chair, I waited patiently for the dish to be cooked.

After a brief passage of time, I retrieved the steaming hot pot, carrying it over to the dining table with a gentle grace, and setting it down with care.

As I began savouring the soup, a contented sigh escaped my lips.

With a swift gulp, I downed the last of the savoury broth.

It was then that my gaze fell upon a weathered notebook resting at the table's edge. it had always occupied that particular spot, yet I had never taken the time to peruse its contents.

I set the empty bowl aside. Half curiosity and half boredom made me pick the notebook.

It was the journal of the kid.

Flipping open the notebook, I randomly selected a page and began delving into its handwritten entries.

…

12th September,

Tomorrow will be my Chunin Exams. I have been training for this day since I became a Genin.

Nothing will stop me from becoming a Chunin.

I will become a Jonin just like you, Dad.

…

16th September,

I failed.

I failed terribly.

All the shinobi participating were all too strong. I couldn't compete. It almost seemed impossible to reach that kind of strength. And all of them were of my age.

Nevertheless, Dad, Mom.

Your son will not give up.

I will keep training hard. I will become a great Jonin and protect this village.

Just like you, Dad.

…

24th April,

I couldn't do it.

It has been three years.

Three years of no progress at all.

I was not meant to be a Jonin.

I have no talent at all. I'm so pathetic. I could never become a Jonin. I have taken the Chunin Exams three times, failing miserably at each one.

I was not meant to be a shinobi.

I don't know what to do, Dad, Mom.

I just can't imagine a life like this. Stuck as a Genin, forever.

The eternal Genin. That's what people would call me.

…

8th May.

I can't keep going like this.

Mom, Dad, I'm coming to you.

…

Closing the notebook, I set it down gently on the table.

Leaning back in my chair, I directed my gaze upward, fixating on the ceiling above.

"Fool," I murmured under my breath. With a sigh that carried a tinge of resignation, I let my exhalation dissipate into the air.

…

A palpable tension hung in the air, casting an apprehensive veil over the scene as numerous Genin congregated at training ground 46.

Among the crowd, I stood, casting my gaze across the assembled shinobi. Notably, a couple of Chunin figures oversaw the proceedings, charged with administering and documenting the outcomes.

Each observation was meticulously recorded during this process and would ultimately find its way to the Hokage, who held the authority to curate the list of chosen candidates. At least, that's what the Chunin told us earlier

'Why am I doing this again?' I mused.

Only to be interrupted by the loud announcer.

"Musashi, Takuma Akino. Proceed to the forefront for the Taijutsu assessment"

'He really had a loud voice for someone so small,' I thought, surprised.

With a silent sigh, I mentally rallied myself. "Let's get this over with," I resolved, pushing aside any lingering hesitation