A NIGHT'S MEMORY
The next few months were some of the weirdest lessons of his life. Not because they were bizarre, but because they were...
Odd, to him specifically. In a subtle way, like when you travel to a new country or around a group of people vastly different from you, and you feel that difference on a certain social level. Not necessarily a bad thing, but your brain reared up and pointed all the differences to you.
Survival instinct. Awareness. Call it what you want.
Minato had been bold and honest in his past life, he was sure of that. Acting a part was so foreign to him, despite playing up being a child to hide what he was, it still felt natural to do so. Now, Baba-san was guiding him on how to act confused and quiet, and how to say very little at all.
"Acting shy and unsure is necessary for you, Minato. Take advantage of that, but not in a way that will paint you as ignorant. You are a sweet child, so amplify that without seeming too naive. They should have no reason to give you a second glance."
He did not realize how oddly he had acted from a normal child until Baba-san guided him into something distinct. Minato was disturbed by how malleable he was under her hands.
His mind, so used to acting with clarity, now found itself lost in these strange facades. Twisting and turning, hesitating before speaking. Often he would become confused as to what Baba-san was trying to do, and he would leave her apartment in a confused daze.
It was harder than one thought to act and to have every action be calculated. Minato was exhausted by it, and he had no idea how regular clan children like Fugaku grew used to it.
Now he thought about every conversation he had with Fugaku, with Baba-san, and even his own mother. It was odd, but it was also exhilarating. It was easy to get lost in Baba-san's lessons and implement them, and he was not immune to the fact that the older woman intended for them to be that way.
Watch your tongue, your hands, and your body language. Smile at the right time, learn how to babble, and watch with wide eyes instead of intense ones.
The act of focusing on his own actions and inactions caused him to lack in the action of watching others. Baba-san assured him that he would be trained on the ability to understand others and their intentions in the Academy and to not focus on it now.
He was cautious by nature, not shy. But here, in Baba-san's world, caution translated into hesitance, into a half-step back when faced with the unknown. It felt like armor made of silk, thin enough to fool but fragile if tested too much.
She taught him to not stare as he had often done before. Children often stared, but not like how he did with full attention. She taught him to wander his gaze and to allow himself to stumble over his words. That was easy because his body often betrayed him when it came to speaking.
Minato was also just mainly grateful that she had not moved to desensitize him. Even if she casually spoke about murder around him and guided Fugaku through his class work, she never pressed the issue on to him about accepting the fact he would have to become a murderer.
Maybe it was because she thought it would just come to him naturally as he grew up, or maybe she noticed he was squeamish about the idea of fighting.
Anyway, Minato practiced on Fugaku in the practice of harmless fun to bother the six-year-old. If there was anything Fugaku disliked more than being around Minato, it was Minato learning how to act like someone his age.
Kaasan had also started to read to him plays. Classic ones, with grand tales and a general sense of heroism, although they had a more feudalistic theme than he was used to. Always about the servant saving their leader, the child saving their village.
However, his favorite one was about a princess named Kaguya, who was granted special abilities and saved her whole kingdom. The material itself was normal, but the writer's pose was wonderful. It was the first time the creative spirit in him reared its head.
With his gaining ability with the language, he was able to tell the artistry with the play. He would have to read it when he understood all the words and kanji later.
Minato loved to hear his mother read to him. Oftentimes, both his parents would trade turns reading to him. The nights felt long to him, but he knew that time was passing by fast for his parents. Minato was counting down the days he knew that he would join the Academy.
But for now, he had his books and his parents.
He will always remember those moments. Despite the fear that he cannot remember his parents from the last lifetime, the memory of both of his parents now living and calm and peaceful, softly speaking to him, will be something he will always try to never forget.