This was too short for how long it took me to get it out. Technically, I'm damn close to on schedule, but nonetheless, I am displeased. I didn't even get everything I wanted in this chapter.

I try to lift my eyelids, but they don't respond. I attempt to force myself up, but my arms are sluggish and I quickly give up.

"Hey, Roiyaru-kun, are you awake?" I hear a familiar voice coming from the side.

I force my mouth to work, to respond. "Y-yes... I am. Is that you, Furutani-senpai?" As I speak, my mouth becomes more responsive and speech becomes easier.

"Yeah, it's Furutani. You're in the hospital," he says. I hear some shifting, and I think he comes closer. "Open your eyes, Roiyaru-kun, you'll get out of here faster if you can begin physical therapy sooner."

I struggle for a few seconds and manage to open my eyes. "Physical therapy?" I tilt my head to look at him questioningly.

"Weird experimental thing that the doctor's thought of." I try to move my fingers, wincing in pain as I do. "Don't try to move your hand without the permission of the doctor, okay?"

"Okay," I say, turning my gaze to the ceiling. "What happened?"

Furutani is silent for a few seconds, then a minute. He finally responds, "I'm going to lie. Your kaa-san is dead. After you… discovered her corpse, the innkeeper found you curled up into a ball against the wall with a broken hand and that kunai I gave you. It's on the table over there," he gestures to the item in question, off to my right. "The entire situation is currently… under investigation. Nobody's really sure what happened, so… don't be surprised if some of the Military Police come and ask questions once you're recovering."

I stare at the ceiling, boring a hole into it. "Who…" I clear my throat, "Who am I going to stay with now?" I look back down at Furutani, who at this, has a sad smile.

"Ah, I've offered to take you under my wing."

My eyebrows shoot up. "But- you're… what?" I stammer for a moment or two.

He chuckles at my surprise, though I can tell he's not very pleased. "You grew on me, kiddo," he admits, scratching the back of his head, "and they also found my address in your pocket. Which is why I even know that this happened."

I take a moment to consider this. I'm not entirely sure if he'd really be able to support taking care of me, extremely self-reliant or not. I don't really know the income of a genin, though, so I can't say. He does, however, seem to be old enough for the responsibility. Not a hundred percent on his exact age, but old enough.

Also, I like the guy. Kinda renders the rest of the points moot.

Meanwhile, Furutani has continued his rambling.

"All of that aside, I should let the doctor know that you're awake," he stands up, turning his back to me as he walks out of the room.

I look to my right, at the kunai. I shift over to it as far as I can manage without excessive pain, stretching my arm over, my fingers brushing against the handle. The kunai grip is pushed away from me as the kunai rotates away from me. I jolt as an angry female voice cuts through the air.

"Not one inch closer, young man!" A blonde woman stomps over to me, capturing my wrist in simultaneously an iron and gentle grip, moving it back to my side. I'm too busy staring straight at her to really protest, though.

Of fucking course it's Tsunade, because who else would it be? I successfully refrain from both sighing and staring, instead saying, "Eh? Why not, lady?" I innocently say, doing my best to look adorable.

Legendary shinobi- or future legendary shinobi, I guess- or not, I want that damn kunai.

Tsunade glares at me. "Don't play innocent." Her grip loses its gentle aspect. Ouch. Keeping my hand in her grip, she picks up the kunai with her other hand. "You're not going to be involved with anything remotely strenuous unless I authorize it. And there's no way I'm even risking you hurt yourself with a kunai."

Dammit. Of course she'd be immune to adorableness.

She turns and exits the room, kunai in hand, and I exhale through my nose. Well, Tsunade was unexpected, but I shouldn't be surprised. I saw Orochimaru earlier, why should Tsunade be special? Regardless of that, I have other things to focus on.

"Status," I whisper. No need for anyone to be questioning my sanity, after all.

The window opens in front of me, and I scan it for any abnormalities. Thank fuck, there isn't a single one. Besides a Condition named [Crippled Hand].

[Crippled Hand]

Afflicted person experiences -75% DEX and -25% STR when utilizing the afflicted hand. Using the afflicted hand has a 50% chance of lengthening the duration of the Condition and 10% chance of damaging the afflicted person. Using the afflicted hand even further may risk more permanent injury, depending on severity of injury and how stressful the usage is on the injury.

Makes sense, fair enough, and it's not like I'll ever get the opportunity to worsen it with Tsunade breathing down my neck.

Speaking of… why was Tsunade assigned to me? The more I thought about it, the less sense it made. It makes me sorta… twitchy. I'm no ninja, and my injury certainly wasn't serious enough to warrant an outright iryō-nin, was it?

I tap my chin since I have no facial hair to scratch.

Not only that, but Furutani said my mother's death was under investigation. It seemed pretty straightforward to me; she committed suicide, as much as it hurt to think. The only suspect I could think of that may have been responsible for her death was…

Me. But… there's no way they'd label me as a suspect, right?

On the other hand… the murder weapon was a kunai owned by me, in a private room with just me and my mother, all without an alibi to account for me. Not only that, but I was injured with no clear explanation, and I knew how to utilize chakra. My mother would, theoretically, be completely defenseless against me.

I stare blankly at the ceiling, shifting uncomfortably.

Shinobi wouldn't dismiss the possibility. Child or not, I could still fight, and anybody that can fight can kill.

Tsunade being my doctor suddenly made sense. She's not just keeping an eye on my wounds, she's also keeping an eye on me.

I screw my eyes shut. I'm not going to let myself trip and fall down this rabbit hole of paranoia. I was fucking two years old, there's not a chance in hell they'd actually throw me in prison, whether they thumbed me as the perpetrator or not.

If they did, they'd probably…

Force me into their Shinobi Corps. Of fucking course. I'm a [Prodigy]. They're gonna use this to force me into it, whether they think I'm the culprit or not. I'm a Fire Country citizen, orphaned at a young age, and a damn [Prodigy]. I'm guaranteed to become a shinobi, now.

Not that I wasn't going to become one before, but I at least I had a choice.

Now the choice is gone, so it's more like I'm invested in my career than like I'm being forced to.

Optimism is great.

The hospital is as boring as the Great Prophet Furutani foresaw. Even worse, since I'm pretty sure being a toddler is fucking with my head and energy levels in some way. Despite the decrease in my max CP.

My [Crippled Hand] had faded away yesterday, but Tsunade had insisted that I stay for another day for physical therapy. I accepted it, primarily because I didn't have much of a choice.

According to her, physical therapy was something she'd thought of recently that she'd decided to test out with me. Without authorization.

Yeah.

Clearly, the concept of physical therapy hadn't progressed much since she was only having me stay for a single day rather than the longer time that was typical of it.

In other news, I got my kunai back.

There was something happy and sad when Tsunade finally returned it. On one hand, it was a gift from Furutani, and Furutani was awesome. On the other, it was the method of my mother's death.

I wasn't the type to hold grudges, I'd told myself as I had been tempted to throw it out the window. But I knew I was. I'd hold that grudge and let it stew like I always did.

I really didn't hold the grudge against the kunai, though. I held it against myself.

I was weak. Unattentive. I should've realized I didn't have the kunai. I should've realized my mother was on the verge of suicide. I should've…

I shook my head, discarding that whole line of thought.

The fact that I was weak, however, remained. I need to get stronger, fast. I was already doing it at unmatched speeds, but it wasn't fast enough, dammit.

Besides all that, the hospital stay had indeed been boring. The only really interesting parts were when Tsunade or Furutani would hold a conversation with me. Or, really, just be present at all. At least I could watch them do something-or-other, then, and not have to stare and unchanging scenery the whole time, left to sort out my own thoughts and emotions without distraction.

I recognized that being alone was bad for me, right now. Furutani did, too, but Furutani couldn't be present all the time. I didn't blame him, or Tsunade, for that matter. They both have other shit to deal with than a prodigious toddler.

The shinobi investigators, though, just loved to pester me. About my mother, about my discovery of her corpse, about me, about where I was… you get the idea. I was right, I was obviously a suspect.

And now…

The shinobi standing in front of me explaining my current situation.

Indeed, they'd declared me the murderer of my own mother. Indeed, I was fucking pissed.

Indeed, just as was suspected, this fucking shinobi motherfucker was telling me, that I could always just become go to the academy and become a loyal Konoha shinobi and all would be forgiven. Not his exact words, but still, that's what it basically was.

At least, judging by the deep frown on his face throughout his lecture, he was just as displeased with my current situation as I was. I'm trying to avoid shooting the messenger.

Ah, he's finally shut up.

"I'll take the option that does not end with me being imprisoned, thanks," I say, glaring at the openly uncomfortable shinobi.

Dammit, I just shot the messenger.

"Er… okay, listen, kid, you'll be staying with a shinobi who'll train you for the next two years. Then, you'll join the Academy," he fidgets slightly, "where you'll lear- will you quit glaring, kid?"

I narrow my eyes but lighten my gaze.

"Right. At the Academy, you'll be taught other skills that your shinobi guardian didn't. Among other things. Frankly, it's not my job, and I'm happy for it."

I tap my foot against to floor. "Great. Can I go to… wherever I'll be staying, now?"

"Sure, sure," the shinobi says, waving a hand, "you'll be staying with some genin. Furutani, I think his name is?"

"Yeah, I already know him. Can I be brought to his place, then?" Despite my want to not get pissed at him, my anger was bubbling again. Dammit.

"Well, I've got another job to get 'round to, so here's his address." The shinobi gives me a slip of paper, and ninjas away.

"I'm two," I grumble. Stupid Narutoland and its non-attention to children.