Silver Linings.

The water gardens were pristine. Still are. The excellently tended plants and a quiet trickle of people doing their business surmounted the turmoil outside the village. He was contrasting a difference between the tranquillity one might find here and anywhere else. In his heart, the man felt like he was inadequate. In many respects, an inefficient shinobi is a burden and a liability. He could have been more clever; his strength and skill were undesirable. His only silver lining was his bloodline, which was an uncashed paycheck. Simple amounts of riches were manageable: work a job and get paid. At least, that was how simple it usually was for any other ordinary civilian. "Fuck." He stated that the simplicity of his gifts' design was unmentionable; eloquence was not one of his many talents. He had three gold coins. One of which was tarnished. They were not barterable tokens; the village shopkeepers had seen him coming a mile away. Connor shrugged and sighed, having no natural way of compensating for the perceived loss. Investments were only sometimes his wisest decisions.

Leaning on the innate bloodline of the Ryoinsatsu, Connor found money easy enough to come by. He was guarding valuable secrets, stolen fortunes, and vast sums of wealth gathered over many lifetimes - Information about The Bank, a pocket dimension accessible only by members of The Ryoinsatsu Family. An immeasurable sum of ryo, gold and valuables, lost and all missing - and somewhere in his pocket—a vast horde, paid for by his relatives's sacrifice and their tenacity. Connor dressed like an ordinary civilian and acted like you might expect, ordinarily. To honour his brethren, he avoided socialite behaviour. Yet, he succumbed quickly to fickle laziness.

Connor's cognitive processes were ever contemplating how some things never change. They remain stagnant, without any meaningful growth, except for the maturity and wisdom that comes with age. It was like he was stuck between the moment the past and future collided. While everything else around him moved forward."It's a curious phenomenon, don't you think?" Within the time parameters that all reasonable shinobi needed for improvement, for a good work ethic to settle in, this time, Connor stagnated. While it is too easy to be patient, for some, Connor personally required tempering to achieve diligence. Few recognised his virtuous effort as commendable, although he demonstrated an exceptional ability to comprehend abstract concepts. While, at times, ignorant, a feeling of contentedness spread over him. The village viewed Connor as a valuable addition to the Genin, making him question how scrutinised he had been in the academy. He realised being any semblance of practical would start with the notion of re-evaluating his negative self-worth later.

Connor paced himself, contemplating his first and last steps - before moving an inch. He had never considered what made him affluent before, but with every stride past where he sat, he knew he would feel poorer. Connor's lack of smile reflected a wealth unable to be shared. Happiness that desired to be acknowledged would only attract persecution. The abysmal conceit he felt was a pauper's greed - created by the threat of meaningless relationships- weighing on him and making him hungry for human contact. He professionally accepted everyone had their price, but money wasn't heralded as the root of all evil for nothing. It was as rhetoric, cold as cash, and reliable as gold. A good friend was hard to come by for the man, who had accepted his younger days were behind him. His charms were meek, and few doors were closed to Connor, but he was against more than just the clock—years of bad habits piling on one another. Rounded shoulders, brazen posture, and a slightly more proportionate figure stared back at him in the water.

He had few options. Either change his ways or retire. Connor would work some mundane part-time job and meet a nice girl - who didn't laugh at him being a Genin. His luck had been tough so far. Not wanting to have a progeny with the same cursed bloodline, he was chaste through no effort of his own. Between feigning a lack of transparency and being terse, Connor found it challenging to decide which he preferred. He rummaged through his meagre belongings, consisting of two gold coins and a tarnished one. It would suffice, or so he imagined.

In the past, beggars played a crucial role in gathering information since people tended to underestimate their presence. While they wandered through villages, many residents overlooked them and paid little attention to their presence. However, these beggars often had a unique perspective on the goings-on within the village, and their observations could provide valuable insights. They were the eyes and ears of the populace, and their pious life demanded sharp senses. Vagabonds were unusual and usually operated within the parameters of the laws of the land they resided in. Missing ninjas were inexplicably dangerous, and Connor could not boast any particular defence against them. If his luck continued, the following Chuunin exams would be another forfeit on his behalf—a lost opportunity.

People often smirked when Connor introduced himself. The weight of his name carried him to a place where he held a certain amount of conviction. The belief was simple: once capital interest was absolved, Connor disappeared. Connor's pockets looked like sieves; however deep, he needed to live up to his namesake. Those coffers of confidence were going to need to fill themselves. He juggled the two coins in one hand, contemplating the existence of others like him. Connor acknowledged there were probably other Ryoinsatsu's. Some are conservative, others greedy. They were making a living. He figured as much because every time he rummaged through The Ryoinsatsu Bank, while no proprietor ever arbitered his withdrawals, he did feel as though there was a definite ebb and flow to the fortune of his clan.

He limbered up by stretching his hand into his pocket, retrieving his wallet, and counting the money he had. It was sensible to do these sorts of things regularly; being a ninja meant having a certain amount of 'financial awareness.' As Connor would put it, things were simpler when the complicated mathematics were done in advance—the first step, out of the way. The second step was away from his long sat-in seat of complacency. The third step is profit. Financially. He left the cold-hard silver linings he usually accepted as rays of hope for sunnier, golden lands filled with luckier days. Ahead were two obstacles for Connor, but he felt he could overcome them with substantial money. "No success like excess. " To accomplish his goals, he need only avoid failure. He could attain great wealth and success beyond his wildest dreams with consistent effort.

Connor walked until he found a beggar in the water gardens. He pondered the importance of achieving his daily goals. The tarnished coin still scorned Connor's otherwise vibrant mood. After doing what any sane person would do, the Ryoinsatsu tossed it into the beggar's wishing well, like a pebble in his shoe. He felt uneasy about it, so he decided against holding onto it. Shrugging like it was no actual loss, as he felt the reassuring weight of the two remaining gold coins in his pocket, Connor went about his day, even striking up a whistle. He was thirsty but needed to be more desperate to drink from the garden's public waters.

Connor's enthusiasm waned slowly. He was putting together what, when assembled, looked potentially like self-confidence. It suited him like a tailored jacket. He broadened his shoulders and brought a rare smile to his face. Adjusting to the positive perspective was alarmingly easy, like he had finally fooled himself and hadn't believed otherwise. Connor could afford ninja tools. Still, at the risk of a potential 'distant relation' seeing him as a threat, he often didn't make exorbitantly specific withdrawals. At his age, Connor would have to pick his work wisely. Injuries were variable, but dedication on Connor's part would eventually pay dividends under challenging circumstances, either way. Too much attention, and he'd lose his share of the world's spare change. From Connor's perspective, the world desperately needed individuals who could turn the tables. Complacency would corrode society without people risking their lives for crooked coins.

Connor Ryoinsatsu had always known that his family had a particular bloodline. They were known for their ability to gather wealth and secrets, but Connor had never been able to tap into that power himself. He had always felt like he was the family's black sheep, unable to meet their expectations. As he walked, Connor thoughtfully deliberated how he would spend his time. He spoke to himself rather than to the general public, " Achieving such an extraordinary accomplishment genuinely deserves admiration and acknowledgement." While juggling the gold coins, Connor remarked how easy it had become. He had never experienced anything like this before. But as he experimented with his newfound manual dexterity, he realised he could control the gold coins with his chakra.

Connor was hesitant to use his power. He didn't want to draw attention to himself or risk being seen as a Ryoinsatsu. Thinking more, the realisation took hold of him that this power could be used for good. The thought of bringing prosperity to his family and village and establishing a distinguished reputation filled him with purpose and ambition. Connor effortlessly moulded the gold coin into a sphere and rolled it around, grinning fanatically, inspired by the malleable metal's grace. Finally, his unique skill sets him apart from the other ninjas. If Connor could find the time to develop this new skill, he believed he could achieve success.

The prospect of manipulating gold and conjuring up the metal at will was an absolute game-changer. The possibilities were endless with this kind of firepower at his fingertips. As he closed his eyes, a blur of fractions danced before him, each slipping away as quickly as it appeared. In that moment, all of his worries about unpaid debts and the stresses of the present moment faded into the background, leaving him with a sense of calm and serenity. Connor's mind often wandered to The Bank, like a koi fish dreaming of a larger pond teeming with smaller fish. The thought of achieving success and making a name for himself filled him with excitement and motivation. A small portion of his time was spent serendipitously appraising his good fortune.

Gold was heavy, and Connor justified that carrying it around would be cumbersome. "I must devise a way to store and retrieve it." Words softly spoken, muttered under his breath. Ryoinsatsu ideologies varied from household to household, but money was money. It tended to accumulate, disappear, and change people's lives. "Nothing slips through the fingers easier than gold." Its weight, coveted value, and long history of being hoarded were legendary. Now, it would be the bread and butter of Connor's repertoire.

Connor's mother had always boasted about his usefulness and efficiency, but now he had finally come to terms with his indolence. Despite his seemingly endless connections, they were all shallow and fleeting. Connor was constantly distracted by minor inconveniences, which prevented him from addressing his procrastination and putting in any constructive effort. However, he decided to leave the gardens and focus on honing his new talents, realising the genuine opportunity to master an advanced element. Connor began to take things step by step, putting in the attritional effort and gradually whittled away his depression. As he did so, his pride began to swell in his chest, and he braced himself for the inevitable punch in the stomach that never came. The air around him felt pristine and fresh as he drew a deep breath, and even the sun seemed to shine a little brighter. Purposefully, the young man exited the water gardens. Pondering the unimaginable wealth that would inevitably follow, Connor had to share the news with his mother. Having her around could help him gain a deeper insight into how to utilise his newly acquired skills best.

---

Pending Exit.
Word Count: 2,012.
Claims: Kinton (Gold Release) 2000/2000
+20 Stats.

Approved