Reminiscence

Of knowledge and responsibility

Sunlight filtered through the torn and solidly worn blinds that adorned Naruto's windows. Some panels were broken and some barely hanging onto their thin string for dear life. It was ironic really, how he could honestly relate to the fraying structure.

Sighing softly, he adjusted his jacket, the once deep red now a murky red-ish brown, faded and washed with age. The mirror in front of him was cracked, but functional, or at least, it did enough of its job to be salvageable. His blonde hair stuck out in odd directions, never settling into anything resembling order despite his best efforts at trying to tame his wild locks. His tanned skin looked pale in the light, the shadows around his eyes seemed to drill deeper into the crevices of his face, a testament to his countless sleepless nights. He supposed he looked presentable enough, not that he could get himself to care much.

Turning away from the murky, tired depiction his reflection showed, his gaze drifted to the bag hanging onto his chair. With careful, delicate movements, he picked up the small bag, its fabric too was worn. Yet, unlike his blinds, it was well cared for. No dust or unwanted stains marred its dark grey color and every tear had been meticulously mended. He imagined that Shisui would call him sentimental for holding onto it all these years.

His heart gave a pang at the memory, and he tried his best to stifle it down.

He'd worn this bag on his first day at the academy and he would wear it on his last.

He was eleven, an age he unwittingly associated with change, and although he would be turning twelve in a few weeks, he figured that this next step could still count as a rite of passage for himself.

It seemed that life had a funny way of drawing parallels within itself. Although, graduating from the ninja academy could never compete with the feeling of going to Hogwarts for the very first time.

His nerves were starting to bubble and fray though. He wasn't worried about the written exams. Those he would ace, he was sure of it. However, the practical exams were a different matter altogether. With a heavy heart, he'd kept up with his training, and his taijutsu had only gotten better over the years. However, his chakra control was as volatile as ever.

In his own, ample unbiased defense, he'd finally learned how to access his chakra flow independently from his magic. However, his control left much to be desired.

And so, to his inner Hermione's dismay, his academic standing wasn't all he hoped it would be.

On a brighter note, and to his ever-growing pride, he could also, finally, manage weak, low-grade spells even if he sometimes found himself falling unconscious afterward. Nothing too strenuous though, he'd mastered Lumos and Nox and a couple of similarly low-tier charms. The ability to produce light when his electricity malfunctioned was a godsend and he would forever be grateful for it.

Over the years, with hours upon hours of meditating, he'd also found a way to work in tandem with his chakra in order to use some of his magic. His control was still nonexistent, but it was progress, and it was better than nothing. Or at least, that's what he told himself every time his energy faltered and drained in his endeavor to control his powers.

Sighing once more, he hefted the small back onto his shoulder and marched out the door. It would not do to make Iruka-sensei angry by being late.

The teacher had grown on him over the years, but he found himself unable to form any lasting connections. He'd effectively hid himself behind an invisible barrier. A metaphorical wall blocking out any unwanted bonds from forming. He preferred it this way, he told himself resolutely. Emotions and relationships were inconsequential and would only bring him pain in the end.