"Enough!" The instructor's voice shouts out and the boy stops his attack on his assault on the boy's face. He stares at his own damaged hands, his knuckles bruised and blisters are slightly forming on the joints on his fingers. His opponent lays on the ground unconscious but alive. After being told to sit down on the bench and wait for the next match to finish, he puts on his slightly damaged lenses. "Lord Danzo... I didn't see you there. Will they be alright? I hope that I didn't kill them..."
[ classified memos | always accepting ] [ @thatsneakymedic ]
Danzō had been watching from the sidelines, silently assessing how the newest inductees were progressing. Usually he didn’t engage with them unless absolutely necessary, but the young boy’s concerned words were sufficient enough cause for a response.
❝You must learn to clear your mind and heart of such concerns. If your mission is to kill, then kill you must. If you must sacrifice yourself, then sacrifice you must. No hesitation.❞
But he could concede that this time, at least, it wasn’t a mission. Kabuto had fought until the very moment he was instructed to stop, and so he could safely say that the boy was doing well, despite his soft heart that still bled too freely. He needed to learn how not to let such things even come into consideration, but there was plenty of time for that.
For a moment longer, he simply observed the boy, noting that the frames of his glasses were skewed, and the lenses scuffed. Another sentimental attachment of his.
❝Will those need to be replaced?❞
