Chapter 5: Broken Wings
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The world outside the village roared with whispers of war.
Rumors passed like dying embers on the wind, carried from desperate merchant to refugee to beggar.
Renjiro heard them as he scavenged for food, half-hidden behind broken stalls.
"Cloud and Rock," an old woman muttered, her voice trembling.
"They've joined Sunagakure. They're marching for the Land of Fire."
"Leaf's surrounded," said a grizzled man sharpening a knife.
"And if the Mist gets involved... it'll be the end."
The words sank into Renjiro's chest like cold iron.
War wasn't ending.
It was only just beginning.
And Konoha — their last hope — might already be doomed.
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Miyo slept fitfully under the tattered blanket, her body curled tightly, her face pale as snow.
She hadn't eaten in two days.
The medicine — what little he had left — seemed useless now, a cruel joke.
She coughed weakly, each breath rattling in her thin chest.
Renjiro couldn't bear it.
He had to get food.
He had to.
No one would give him any.
That left only one option.
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The market was busy — desperate hands clawing at spoiled vegetables, half-rotted meats.
Renjiro moved through the crowd like a ghost, his eyes locked on a basket of stale bread left unattended.
He waited.
He counted the breaths.
And then — he moved.
Fingers fast as a striking snake — he snatched a loaf and turned to run.
But a hand caught his arm — strong, brutal.
He was yanked backward, falling hard onto the cobblestones.
The stall owner loomed above him, a fat man with a blood-red face, his belt heavy with coins and knives.
"Thief!" the man roared.
The crowd turned — and in the next instant, fists rained down.
Kicks.
Blows.
Boots slamming into his ribs, his arms, his face.
Pain exploded behind his eyes.
The world spun.
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"Miiiyo," he gasped.
And then she was there — stumbling from their shelter, arms raised, her small voice broken and shaking.
"Stop... please... don't hurt my brother!"
She threw herself between Renjiro and the mob.
And for one terrible moment —
— the world seemed to freeze.
A rough hand lashed out.
A slap meant for Renjiro — caught Miyo full across the face.
She crumpled to the ground like a broken doll.
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Something inside Renjiro snapped.
Through the haze of pain, through the roaring in his ears, he saw her lying there — tiny, fragile, gasping for breath.
And he moved.
His fingers found the knife his father had given him long ago — hidden deep in his torn clothes.
Before he knew what he was doing, he drove it forward.
The blade sank into the fat man's thigh — deep, hot blood spurting out in an arc.
The man screamed and staggered back.
The crowd recoiled — not from pity, but from fear.
They weren't brave enough for real blood.
They weren't brave at all.
Renjiro scooped up Miyo, clutching her tightly against his chest.
He bared the knife, wild-eyed, a low, broken snarl tearing from his throat.
"Stay back," he rasped.
For once — the world listened.
The mob parted like dead leaves in the wind.
Renjiro fled into the alleyways, Miyo limp in his arms.
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He ran.
Through narrow streets.
Through the stench of blood and smoke.
He didn't stop until he reached a crumbling shrine at the edge of the village — a place abandoned even by the gods.
Only then did he dare to breathe.
Only then did he dare to look at her.
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Miyo's face was pale, her lips cracked and bluish.
The slap had left an ugly bruise blooming across her cheek.
Renjiro tore the stolen bread into tiny pieces, soaking them in water until they were soft.
"Eat," he begged, pushing them gently against her mouth.
She tried.
She really did.
But she only managed a few bites before turning away, coughing weakly.
He crushed the last of the herbs into the water, forcing it down her throat with trembling hands.
Still...
Still, she faded.
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As the sun bled red over the broken world, Miyo opened her eyes again.
Tears streaked her dirty cheeks.
"Big brother..." she whispered, her voice so faint he had to lean close to hear.
"I wanna... go to Mama... and Papa..."
Her small fingers clutched at his torn shirt.
"It hurts," she sobbed. "Please... it hurts."
Renjiro broke.
The knife slipped from his fingers.
He gathered her into his arms, crushing her tiny body against his chest.
He cried.
He cried so hard it felt like the world might split open.
"Miyo... no, please... stay with me," he choked out.
"I'll get you to Konoha. I'll find help. I'll make it better. I swear."
But she was already slipping away —
— lost somewhere he couldn't reach.
Her body burned with fever, yet her hands were so cold.
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"Don't leave me," she whimpered.
"Please... don't leave me, big brother..."
Her voice cracked on the last word, dissolving into ragged breaths.
Renjiro kissed her brow, rocking her gently, as if that could hold her spirit inside a little longer.
"I'm right here," he whispered brokenly.
"I'll never leave you."
Even as the world fell apart.
Even as death closed in.
He would hold her until the very end.
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To be continued...
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