Chapter 71: Ready or Not, Must Keep Working
As Souta stepped back into the room, he picked up some simple clothes—a faded gray t-shirt and brown shorts that were starting to wear thin with age.
Although the fabric looked tired from time, Souta neatly rolled up the sleeves, smoothing out the small wrinkles on his chest.
While Souta might live simply, one thing never changed: he could never stand to see himself looking messy.
When Souta opened the apartment door, the sound of another door across the hall also opened.
Pakura.
The girl stood straight at the threshold, as if merging with the shadow of herself.
Her hair was neatly tied back, highlighting a simple beauty that needed no words. Her eyes, as usual, radiated a sharp coldness, yet remained far from being harsh.
Pakura's outfit was slightly better than Souta's—a well-kept long-sleeved green shirt paired with dark green pants that fell perfectly to her ankles.
Souta raised his hand slightly, trying to smile.
"Hey, Pakura. Are you ready to work today?" Souta's voice was a bit hoarse from not having spoken since waking up, but he tried to sound lighthearted.
Pakura merely nodded slightly. She wasn't one to talk much. But in Souta's eyes, there was acknowledgment. Pakura didn't respond with words, but her gaze was enough to say that she was ready.
Souta still felt strange talking to children, even though technically... he was a child himself now.
In Souta's previous life, he wasn't just an introvert—he was nearly socially autarkic. His life was filled with cables, screwdrivers, and software simulations, not conversations or the laughter of children.
However... in this world, everything was different. Perhaps Souta's new body was affecting his mind.
Maybe it was because this world forced Souta to be more open. Or perhaps... because he was finally given the chance to experience what a real childhood was like.
In any case, Souta was now in the body of a child. A small body, a voice that hadn't broken yet, steps that were still light—everything felt foreign to Souta.
But that was no reason to act suspiciously.
Souta was well aware that one movement or statement that was too adult-like would raise suspicion among the other children.
So, Souta forced himself to smile innocently, adjusting his tone to sound naive, and imitating the movements of children his age. Awkward? Certainly. But it was better to appear a little clumsy than to seem too different.
Beside Souta, Pakura stared straight ahead with a flat expression like a sand statue. The sunlight illuminated one side of her face, highlighting the fine lines of tension between her brows.
"Yeah... Anyway, ready or not, I still have to work today," Pakura said in a soft but firm voice, as if repeating a decision she had made silently the night before.
"Only by doing so can I earn more money. Besides the monthly subsidy from the Sunagakure Village Government."
Pakura's voice did not convey complaint. Instead, it was flat, cold, like an undeniable fact. Her face did not change at all—no smile, no movement of her lips.
Yet, from the way Pakura clenched her small fingers, it was clear there was tension she was hiding.
Souta could only manage a wry smile, the corners of his mouth lifting stiffly. He didn't know how to respond. Pakura's statement was too mature for children, but Souta knew—in this world, not all children had the luxury of truly being children.
They walked side by side, their steps making a soft sound as their feet brushed against the hard sand below. The morning sun illuminated the narrow streets of Sunagakure Village, spreading a warm yet dazzling golden light.
The desert air was dry, but not stinging like it would be in the afternoon. The warm scent of sand mixed with the aroma of toasted bread and salty soup from the shops that had just opened.
...
Chapter 72: Pakura's First Day at Work
Ninjas were seen swiftly crossing the rooftops of buildings or navigating through alleys while carrying scrolls and weapon bags.
Some housewives were sweeping in front of shops, while children in training clothes hurriedly ran by, their laughter mingling with the dust.
Souta began recounting his experiences from work yesterday, talking about the doll room, the dust that clung to the wooden hinges, and how difficult it was to lift a doll the size of an adult.
As Souta spoke in a relaxed tone, he occasionally made small jokes to lighten the mood. Although she didn't laugh, Pakura responded with a slow nod, and the expression in her eyes seemed a bit more lively.
Suddenly, a cheerful voice called out from a distance.
"Hey! Pakura-chan! Souta!"
Makima came running, her steps light, and the twin ponytails of her hair swayed rhythmically.
Makima was wearing a thin, pale yellow sand coat, and her smile seemed like something that could chase away the morning chill.
"So? How is it? Did you get the job, Pakura-chan?" Makima asked enthusiastically, her large eyes reflecting the sunlight.
Pakura looked at Makima for a moment, then slowly nodded her head. "Yes. I got accepted. After passing the cleaning test."
"Oh! Great!" Makima clapped her hands lightly, then turned to Souta. "What about you? How was your first day?"
Souta squinted for a moment, then smiled. "Not bad. It was actually quite fun. Just cleaning some parts of wooden dolls, not a heavy task."
"Ehh? Seriously?" Makima looked surprised. "I thought you'd have to wash monster blood or something!"
Souta chuckled softly. "That's impossible."
The three of them laughed, at least Makima and Souta did—while Pakura only raised an eyebrow slightly, whether out of amusement or confusion.
The streets grew busier. The aroma of spices from food vendors wafted through the air, mingling with the smell of oil from the weapon shop. The sunlight began to rise higher, reflecting off the sandy walls of the tall buildings around them.
Finally, they arrived at the Ninja Academy—a large building of pale golden color, entirely made of solid sand sculpted into sturdy, ornate walls typical of Sunagakure.
The front pillars were carved with motifs of wind and desert sun, depicting the fighting spirit and resilience of this village.
They entered...
...
...
...
Time flew until the afternoon. The sun had shifted westward, casting long shadows on the ground.
Students exited the Academy in small groups. Some were laughing, some were complaining about training, and others ran straight home.
Souta, Pakura, and Makima walked together, following the sandy path that was starting to cool. Makima, as usual, didn't stop talking.
She asked about the workplace, the instructors, even about the type of broom used in the performance hall.
Souta answered some of her questions, while he responded to others with a smile or a nod. He was smart enough to know which questions could be answered and which were better avoided.
Before long, they arrived in front of the Puppet Arts Performance Theater—a grand building standing tall, adorned with carvings of puppet silhouettes in various poses.
The large wooden door looked like the wide-open mouth of a sand dragon, as if welcoming both artists and audiences alike.
Makima stopped and turned around. "See you tomorrow at the Academy! Don't be late, Souta! Pakura-chan!" She waved with both hands, then jogged into the adjacent alley.
Souta turned to Pakura. "Shall we?"
Pakura nodded. "Hmm."
They entered the building. The corridor they passed through felt cold and quiet, with only the echo of their footsteps on the hard sandy floor. The hanging lights on the walls emitted a yellowish glow, casting faint shadows on the walls.
After a few minutes of walking, they arrived at the main hall—a spacious room with a high ceiling adorned with sand paintings and intricately carved pillars supporting the roof.
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