Naruto: The Outsider's Resolve

[Fiction]

Maruboshi and Takuma sat together in front of each other in the middle of the field. The morning's gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the abundant trees in and around the Leaf village, bringing about a harmonious summer sound.

"Seeing that you have tried to practice chakra on your own. Tell me about your experience so I can know what you understand," said Maruboshi.

"... Nothing. I felt nothing, made zero progress," said Takuma in a voice quieter than his natural tone. Despite his lack of proficiency in literally every aspect of being a shinobi, Takuma made progress in everything he was taught, no matter how minuscule it may be, he had improved. But not in chakra— it was as if he was trying to access that wasn't there.

What if it wasn't there... at all. Bells blared in his mind as the thought emerged in his mind for the first time. What if he didn't possess chakra?

'No, no, no! All lifeforms on this planet possess chakra,' he thought.

'But you're not from this planet,' said a treacherous voice in his mind.

'This body is!' Takuma screamed back.

'So, what?' said the voice, sounding infinitely blaming. 'Didn't you say so yourself? Chakra is a product of combining physical and spiritual energies. The body produces the physical aspect, but it's your soul that doesn't produce the spiritual aspect— because it's not native to this world. You're an outsider; you can't wield chakra! Get out!'

The chilling thought made her body shudder more than a dip in the cold water of a freezing winter morning. He couldn't accept it— a life without the ability to use chakra in this world. The number of people who didn't use chakra dwarfed those who did use it, but Takuma didn't want to be part of that majority.

His vision turned blurry as his ears started to ring harshly. The glass of milk he had drank threatened to come out with the rest of his stomach juices. His body felt hot as the broad open field started to feel too small and congested, there was not enough air to breathe. The early sun felt dim, the rustle of leaves sounded deafening, and the morning breeze felt heavy like lead.

Takuma looked down at his body. The body that wasn't his. It wasn't his skin he was wearing. He was a thief. He needed to get out of it... get out... now!

"Takuma!"

The old voice pierced through the noise, and Takuma felt a weight on his shoulder. He looked up with his eyes wide in shock as though he had seen a great ghost spelling the end of his life. In a matter of seconds, Takuma's entire body looked like he had been in the sauna, dripping with sweat.

Seeing the trembling Takuma in front of him, Maruboshi jumped forward and laid Takuma down on the grass. Takuma's chest heaved up as he looked up at the blue sky. It was coming down, or so it looked to Takuma. He immediately curled up in a ball in response.

"Takuma, can you hear me?!"

Maruboshi hurriedly weaved a chain of hand signs before grabbing Takuma's head, resting his palms between Takuma's temples. A green glow of Iryo Ninjutsu illuminated Maruboshi's palms, but Takuma's breath remained erratic and labored, and every muscle seemed restless and ready to jump out.

"Takuma, focus on my voice, child."

Maruboshi frowned. It wasn't working. He gazed at the distressed Takuma for a moment before canceling the jutsu and rushing out of the field while carrying Takuma in his arms.

-.-.-​

Maruboshi sighed as he sat by Takuma's bedside in the hospital. He stared at the child he had taken under his wing with worry. Just an hour ago, the face now sleeping peacefully was twisted in pain. Looking back at it, he hadn't had the time to process the last hour completely. All of it was so sudden that he had followed his instincts like he would during a mission.

Because of that, he ended up bringing Takuma to the shinobi hospital instead of the civilian hospital, as he should've done. Unlike him, Takuma was still a civilian and, according to the correct procedure, should've been admitted to a civilian hospital.

It was thanks to the good fellows in the hospital who had allowed Takuma a bed until he woke up, after which he was going to be moved to the civilian counterpart for further treatment if needed.

If needed, Maruboshi sighed. He prayed there wasn't a need for any.

But the chances of that happening seemed sparse as it had already been four days since Takuma had been in the hospital and had yet to wake up. By the time they reached the hospital, Takuma had fallen unconscious and had yet to wake up even once since then.

What had happened? Maruboshi frowned as he gazed at Takuma. One second, the child was normal, if not a little moody, but the next moment, he was writhing on the floor, clutching his head and sweating profusely. There was no physical injury; he had done the rudimentary check. When he tried to cast Iryo ninjutsu to calm any pain, the jutsu didn't work. The cause of distress was either out of the jutsu's target function, or the distress was so much that his skill couldn't provide any relief. Neither were favorable options.

"Kosuke."

Maruboshi turned towards the ward's door and stood in haste when he saw the man who had called out to him. "Lord Third!" he exclaimed and rushed to kneel in front of the village's leader.

"Nothing of that," Sarutobi Hiruzen, the third and the current Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, said as he entered the room.

Another shinobi dressed in the standard Leaf shinobi gear accompanied the Hokage. The man with the large weal-like scar didn't enter the room and instead stood at the threshold, observing the corridor outside of the room.

'Hokage's protection,' thought Maruboshi as he stood up. He looked towards the room's window, and as expected, he caught another shinobi standing outside on the ledge outside the window. The Hokage never went anywhere without protection. And Maruboshi knew there were ANBU shinobi lurking somewhere outside of view, protecting the Hokage from the shadows.

His eyes returned to Hiruzen, who now stood at the foot of the bed. He stood silently as the Hokage observed Takuma.

"A child, Kosuke?" said Hiruzen, glancing at Maruboshi. He retrieved a smoking pipe from his wide-sleeved haori that we wore over his red kimono.

"It's the hospital, Lord Hokage," said the guard from the door.

Hiruzen looked down at his pipe before putting it back. "My apologies; I reached for it out of habit," he said.

"A child I have taken under my guidance recently, Lord Hokage," said Maruboshi respectfully, moving the conversation onwards.

Hiruzen looked surprised. Maruboshi couldn't blame him; given his circumstances, the situation was indeed out of the ordinary.

"A genin?" asked Hiruzen.

"An academy student."

That seemed to surprise the Hokage even more. He went back to gazing at Takuma. "What happened?" he asked.

"According to the healers... nothing," said Maruboshi. The healers had diagnosed Takuma when he was admitted and the day next to that, but both times they couldn't find anything wrong with Takuma. They could only tell him that as there was nothing wrong with Takuma, he would wake up on his own. As for when? They couldn't give him a date.

Maruboshi recounted the events to Hiruzen, who hummed after hearing the recollection.

"If the healers weren't able to find anything with the child's body, then that must mean the problem must lie within the mind," said Hiruzen. He looked towards Maruboshi, "The hospital has a Yamanaka on staff; I will ask him to take a look at young Takuma; I'm sure he will be able to help in some way."

"T-That would be very generous of you, Lord Hokage," Maruboshi bowed deeply. "Thank you, I can't describe how much this means. I'm sure young Takuma would be eternally grateful when he hears."

"Children are the real treasure of the village," said Hiruzen with a smile. "It's only our duty to care for them and help them achieve their potential."

Maruboshi gazed at Takuma. The young indeed had potential, but not all young could reach the potential. Only those who worked hard had a chance to achieve their potential.

"Though, I must ask... Why now? After such a long time," Hiruzen asked Maruboshi.

Maruboshi understood what Hiruzen meant. "The child required guidance and didn't have anyone to provide it to him. Young Takuma is an orphan," he added when Hiruzen looked confused.

"Ah."

"He has no one to rely upon, it was a coincidence we met, or maybe it was fate that I accepted, but now that I have taken the responsibility, I will not walk away from it," said Maruboshi. "And as you said, Lord Hokage, children are the treasure of the village. The future. I am simply doing something very small, hoping that future will be a happy one."

He hadn't agreed to teach Takuma on a whim. There were many orphans who needed an adult influence in their lives, someone to guide them as they grew up. He couldn't help every one of them. So, he chose one that would benefit from his guidance and would appreciate it. He had observed Takuma for days from the shadows to see if teaching Takuma would be worth it or just a waste of time.

In that time he had seen a lonesome child who didn't fit in with the rest. Always alone, but never lonely. Never once had he seen Takuma look at his classmates or other children with other parents with even a hint of wanting or desire in his eyes. He always seemed so indifferent to everything. Living his life running around, not stopping even for a second to look around to appreciate the simple things. Never relying on anyone. That wasn't how a child was supposed to live.

Then he realized. Maybe the reason why Takuma never seemed to care was that he never knew what the joy of companionship felt like in the first place.

The sentiment saddened Maruboshi, and he had only thought about it. What about Takuma? What if he was living it.

Maruboshi didn't know if his thoughts were correct; after all, he didn't know what Takuma was thinking. But even if there was a chance that he was right, he didn't want any child to live that sort of life. Especially a child in front of him, one he knew, even if only shortly.

So, he decided... He would train Takuma. Not for the purpose of making him a fine shinobi. No, what he wanted was for Takuma to know the joy of companionship— what it felt like to rely on others, to share joy and sadness all the same.

"Then maybe you feel ready to guide others in need," said Hiruzen.

Maruboshi matched eyes with his Hokage and firmly shook his head. He wasn't ready for that. He was never going to be ready for that. Training an academy student once a day with no life-threatening stakes and consequences couldn't compare.

He didn't put his thoughts into words, but Hiruzen understood the head shake and dropped the conversation, something Maruboshi was thankful for.

Hiruzen stayed a while, gazing at Takuma. He even asked Maruboshi about Takuma. Maruboshi was surprised. He had been around longer than others— he had served under Lord Second, Lord Third, then Lord Fourth, and Lord Third again— so he knew how busy the seat of Hokage was.

But he told anyway; after all, who was he to deny the Hokage?

He recounted the progress proudly Takuma had made. How much he had learned in a short time. He told the Hokage about how smart Takuma was for a young child, that he held wits and cunning beyond his age. And the tenacity and will to persevere through anything thrown at him without a squeak of a complaint. Never once had Takuma requested to slow down or do less. Never had he refused to complete any task he had asked of him.

Takuma was a good student; nothing anyone else might say could make Maruobshi think otherwise.

Hiruzen listened until it was time for him to leave.

Maruboshi felt embarrassed; he had spoken too much. He apologized for keeping the Hokage for so long. But Hiruzen waved it off.

"It is a joy to hear that such a bright child will be joining our ranks soon," said Hiruzen with a smile. "Maybe the next time we meet, I will hear about him from the person himself."

When Hiruzen left, Maruboshi sat beside Takuma. He hadn't taken a mission; he had nowhere to be.

"Wake up soon, young Takuma..."

He hoped Takuma would.

His mornings had begun to feel lonely.




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[Fiction]

It was too bright, Takuma thought annoyingly. The light from his bedroom window was painting the backside of his eyelid. And he hated nothing more than to have his sleep ruined by errant light.

'I don't want to get up,' he thought, rolling to his side, and to his delight, the harsh glare of the light vanished. He snuggled into the bed and settled himself into a cozy spot. Perfect for returning to sleep. His smile soon turned into a frown. He had to get up. Sleeping in wasn't an option; Maruboshi didn't take tardiness lightly.

He wondered what they were going to do today? If he knew himself, he knew taijutsu still sat at the top of his inadequacies and needed more spars to improve. And if he knew that, Maruobshi knew better. He could see sparring getting more time in his spar.

'Ugh... when is he going to teach me about chakra!' Takuma groaned. Half of the ten months was already over, and they hadn't even discussed chakra; what is—

Takuma's eyes snapped open as the memories rushed back. It wasn't a typical morning before another routine Maruboshi lesson. The delirious haze from just rousing out of sleep evaporated, leaving behind Takuma's mind filled with nothing but the last memories he could recall. The phantoms of fear, dread, and despair all gripped his heart, and his being suddenly felt like it had been transported back to the field with Maruboshi.

The scene in front of him vaguely caught his attention before the question about his location pushed through his mind. His eyes were about to dart around when he noticed a man with dark blonde hair tied in a ponytail that fell over his shoulder gazing down at him.

He didn't recognize the man. The overwhelming flood of emotions he was feeling was overpowered by an intense burst of surprise, pushed back to the back of his mind, momentarily forgotten.

Takuma immediately rolled in the opposite direction to put some distance between himself and the unknown man. His back left the soft cushioning of the bed and dropped down on the floor, but not without knocking his head against the side table beside the bed. Being crouched on the floor, Takuma pushed himself back while one hand went to the side of his head instinctually.

A torrent of thoughts went through his mind. Who was this man? What was this place? Where was Maruboshi? How long had he been unconscious? He couldn't feel his holsters on his body; he needed to arm himself.

"Takuma."

The single word broke his thoughts as his eyes instinctually went towards the source. Maruboshi stood near the foot of the bed with what looked like worry and joy in his eyes. Seeing him immediately had its effect, and all the nervous tension drained out of Takuma as he eased his muscles and let all of his weight pool down on the floor.

"Sensei," Takuma said breathily.

Maruboshi walked to Takuma and knelt beside him. He put a hand on Takuma's shoulder as he said, "It's okay, child. You fell unconscious in the field. You are at the hospital. This man is an Iryo-nin treating you. You have been unconscious for six days."

A perfect overview of his situation, thought Takuma before the words registered in his mind.

"Six days!" he exclaimed— he had been out almost a week! That was a week of precious time; he could barely afford to spare half a day; just the thought of missing a week made his liver hurt. "What the hell happened?" he asked Maruboshi.

The answer came from the doctor instead. "You had a panic attack," said the man. "A panic attack is a sudden episode of intense fear that triggers severe physical reactions when there is no real danger or apparent cause. Panic attacks can be very frightening. When panic attacks occur, you might think you're losing control, having a heart attack, or even dying..."

Takuma knew what a panic attack was. And the description was literally word-for-word what happened to him.

"... Your mind was exhausted and stressed, beyond what's healthy. When the attack render you unconscious, it strained your tired mind, and it decided to put you into a coma to recover."

"My mind can do that?" Takuma asked, stunned.

"The human mind can do a myriad of things, Takuma," said the man with a smile. "Don't see it as a bad thing. Your body was simply protecting itself when it sensed danger."

Takuma sighed. He couldn't believe he had a panic attack. In his previous life, he never had any health complications; the most he had were coughs, colds, and fevers— things that went away with over-the-counter medication in a couple days without needing any doctor visits. It had been at least a decade since he had visited a doctor, but somehow he ended up in a hospital bed in a coma. The gap was too great.

"I am sorry, young Takuma. This old man will take all the responsibility. It was because of me pushing you that you ended up in such a state," Maruboshi said, his words drowning in grief and blame.

"Rubbish," Takuma immediately replied. "I don't know why he says my mind was exhausted," he pointed at the doctor, "because I never thought I was being pushed or pressured beyond something I couldn't handle. Yes, every day was tough and grueling— but you know what they say: no pain, no gain— I never complained because there was nothing to complain about. It is just my body doing its own thing. You don't have to take any blame, sensei. I don't blame you, so neither should you because it's not your fault."

He was quick to thrash any unnecessary thoughts that Maruboshi might be having. It wouldn't do if Maruboshi thought he couldn't handle the pressure.

The Iryo-nin retrieved a notepad from the side table and wrote on it before handing it to Takuma, who had taken his place on the bed. "You don't need any medication, but you'll need to lighten up on training for at least one week," said the man making Takuma groan. "I have also recommended some changes in diet until you feel back to normal."

Takuma took the doctor's prescription and looked surprised.

"Is something wrong?" Maruboshi asked.

"No, it's just I didn't expect such neat handwriting from a doctor," said Takuma. The words on the prescription were beautiful, to say the least, with a flowing cursive script. So much so that if someone offered it for free, Takuma would consider having the diet plan framed on his kitchen wall.

The ponytailed man chuckled, "I will take that as a compliment. I've worked hard on keeping my scribbles legible. It's a problem if I can't understand my own notes. Now, if you excuse me, I have other commitments I must see to," he finished.

"Of course. Takuma, please thank Doctor Yamanaka for his help," Maruboshi said to Takuma.

Takuma was about to oblige when his brain parsed the entire sentence and pointed out the new piece of information to him.

"Yamanaka!" he exclaimed, looking at the Iryo-nin with startled eyes. "You looked into my mind?" he asked, fearing the answer he would get.

The Yamanaka clan of the village hidden in the leaves was a shinobi clan specializing in the Hiden mind-related jutsu, making them experts at intelligence gathering, espionage, and interrogation, amongst other things. They could read memories, possess bodies, perform telepathy, and possess various other abilities granted by their clan's jutsu.

"I did observe your mind..."

Takuma's breathing quickened as a strong sense of fear and panic, much akin to what had knocked him out, rose from the bottom of his heart. For a transmigrator like him, the status of being a transmigrator was the biggest secret he held. It was the one thing he couldn't let anyone know. For if the secret was leaked, he knew he would end up in a secret facility somewhere, repeatedly interrogated for information. Forever losing his freedom.

In this world, a Yamanaka, like the man in front of him, was his worst enemy— the natural predator. An entire clan of people who could ruin his life beyond repair.

"... but I only observed the morning when you collapsed," said the Yamanaka. "I had experienced what you went through to give a proper diagnosis. And as an Iryo-nin, I have taken an oath to not betray my patients' trust. Whatever I see in my patients' minds will only remain with me. Whatever you feel will remain safe with me— that I promise."

The words of promise didn't make Takuma feel any better. Even if the man was telling the truth and had only seen that one morning, a lingering thought would forever stay in Takuma's mind— what if the man was lying and had seen everything?

"One last thing, I would highly recommend you talk to someone about what you experienced that day," said the mind-reading doctor. "Bottling everything up is not good for health. From my experience, sharing it will help tremendously."

'You just want me to reveal my secrets,' a voice said in Takuma's mind.

Takuma gulped down the bile and nodded to the Yamanaka, "Thank you for helping me," he said. However, there was no sincerity behind it. He couldn't help... all he felt towards the man was fear and aversion.

Yamanaka returned the smile before he left the room. Takuma bowed his head deep down and took deep breaths.

"I feel I have made a mistake again," Maruboshi said from the side. "I should've not accepted Lord Hokage's offer to have a Yamanaka treat you without your consent."

Takuma was surprised yet again. The amount of new information and the intensity he had received in such a short time was far beyond what he ever wanted to get.

"The Hokage was here?" he asked.

"He was indeed here in this room," said Maruboshi with a warm smile. "When I told him that the other healers couldn't find anything wrong with you, he offered to request Doctor Yamanaka to look at you. He even asked me about you and said he would look forward to meeting you when your paths closed."

"O-Oh," Takuma stuttered.

The Hokage might have been once a character in a story once, but after living in the world for nearly half a year, he realized that the Hokage was a military leader. He was as high as the president/prime minister of a country. Some ordinary folks like him won't ever get to converse with the Hokage ever. Even if he became a shinobi, it would be a long time before he could have a conversation with the Hokage outside of work.

"It... It's okay," he said. "You were only worried about me. I'm thankful for what you did."

But in truth, he would've preferred if Maruboshi hadn't agreed. Between remaining in a coma and having all his secrets revealed, he a hundred percent favored the former, even if it meant that he lost the gains from the physical training with every progressing day. He could regain muscle through training, but he couldn't make his secrets hidden again.

"If not for you not agreeing, who knows how long it would've taken me to wake up. I don't have the time to waste laying around in bed," said Takuma resolutely. The most precious currency he held right now was time.

Maruboshi furrowed his brows, his old skin wrinkling due to. "You will rest for a week as the doctor suggested. We start after that."

"I am fine—"

"I will be taking this week off and participating in missions. So, you must rest your mind and body in that time."

Takuma opened his mouth to argue but hearing that Maruboshi would not be present for the coming week made his argument dry up. He sighed as he looked outside the window.

"I will rest," he said.

"Good," he heard Maruboshi say. "... Do you wish to talk about what happe—"

"No."

Takuma didn't look towards Maruboshi. He didn't want to talk about it. He still didn't know if he could use chakra, and simply having that thought seated in his head was frightening. The thought of considering talking about it before he was sure made him want to throw up.

It didn't help that it would be at least a week before he could get the answer.

A time that seemed almost too far in the future.

So no... he didn't want to talk,

Or so his heart told him as it beat faster and faster at even the thought of the conversation.




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[Fiction]

Takuma turned his head at the sound of footsteps suddenly appearing in the middle of the field where he and Maruboshi used to train in the mornings.

"... You are early today, young Takuma... and have apparently warmed up already."

Takuma stood up from the plank position and faced Maruboshi, who he had not seen in eight days due to the latter being on missions and the former being on rest. The longest they had not seen each other since they had met. And the longest one week he had suffered through both his existences.

"I couldn't sleep last night and decided to come early," said Takuma. Since their correspondence, it was the first time he had arrived before Maruboshi. The restless last night of knowing that today was the day he was allowed to return to their training had robbed him of the comfort of sleep. The restlessness didn't abate when he arrived at the field, so he began warming to release the nervous energy by moving his body around.

Maruboshi gave Takuma a look over, examining him after the break. He then chuckled, "Young ones have more vitality than us old folks have long lost. I'm glad to see you're doing well, Takuma. How is your health?" he asked.

"As good as new, better even," Takuma said assertively. He wanted to leave no doubt in Maruboshi's mind that he was back in full shape. "We can continue right where we left off without any problems."

"Let's not waste any time then," Maruboshi nodded before giving Takuma instructions to start off their day, which usually started with warmups and stretching, but because Takuma had already done that, they moved on.

Every morning began in a similar way, with a quick conditioning session where Maruboshi would ensure Takuma was always near the point of failure with every exercise to build endurance and systematically improve his physique. It was the only time in the morning that Maruboshi devoted to just physical conditioning. They did taijutsu spars and other physical activities, but they were for the sake of skill building and not to improve Takuma's physical fitness. What Maruboshi made Takuma do wasn't enough from a physique-development point of view, but because they only met in the morning for a limited amount of time, Maruboshi told Takuma to do the majority of physical exercise in the evening on his own, so they could focus on other categories in the mornings and better utilize the older's shinobi's time guiding.

"Let's take a quick break here before moving on," said Maruboshi after the session.

Takuma breathed deeply to catch his breath as he frowned at Maruboshi's back as the teacher sipped from his canteen. Takuma was drenched in sweat, his clothes sticking to his body, and beads of sweat dripping from the strands of his hair. Despite all of that, Takuma felt Maruboshi had gone easy on him. The workout they just had wasn't as intense as he was used to doing with Maruboshi. And it wasn't him getting used to it; he hadn't gotten used to it for five months because Maruboshi was constantly changing it, pushing the measure a bit higher.

No, the workout regiment had been purposefully made easier, and he could feel it clearer than his own skin

'He still thinks of me recovering from the incident,' Takuma growled in his thoughts with frustration. That was what he feared would happen when they restarted his training. That's part of the reason why he had arrived early and did the warm up before Maruboshi arrived— to show he was fit and didn't need a reduced load.

"Come, Takuma," Maruboshi had sat down, cross-legged, on the grass and pointed at the spot in front of him. "We shall continue where we left off and begin with chakra."

Takuma had just sat down when he heard the mention of chakra, and he froze. He was about to tell Maruboshi off for going easy on him, but that plan was shredded and thrown in his mind's trash can. Something much more important had arrived.

The time had come. The time he had been dreading and looking forward to since the day he had woken up in the hospital.

"Now, if my memory serves me well, you said you weren't able to sense chakra during your own attempts with it."

Takuma lightly shook his head as he kept his eyes focused near Maruboshi's chest area, avoiding his teacher's eyes. He had tried once again in his rest week to invoke his chakra, but the result was dread-inducingly the same. He hadn't been able to sense much less use any chakra at all. His body felt as though baren of the base energy.

In hindsight, he should not have tried more. It only worsened his anxiety, making food more difficult to swallow and sleep difficult at night. The light sleep he got was haunted by the thoughts of transmigration being the reason behind his inability to sense any chakra.

But then Maruboshi said, "Nothing to worry about. While rare, there are children who are not able to sense chakra on their own and require external help to find the energy within."

Takuma looked up at Maruboshi and found that his teacher was smiling. The smile made a spark of hope ignite within him.

It was rare but not unseen; he could be part of that rare few, Takuma thought. He had been part of a rare group before— the people who transmigrated. What stopped him from being part of another one.

Every moving millisecond fanned the fire of hope in Takuma's heart.

"Give me your hand," Maruboshi said, putting his old, wrinkled hand forward.

Takuma couldn't have been faster as he eagerly placed his hand over Maruboshi, which seemed to be entirely made up of calluses. Takuma had developed some calluses from practicing throwing weapons, but when compared to Maruboshi, his hands seemed like they belonged to someone who hadn't worked with their hands a day in his life.

"Take a deep breath and follow it through your body," Maruboshi said as he himself took a deep breath and gripped Takuma's hand.

Takuma's brows twitched. What was he supposed to follow? But the question died before it reached his lips as he felt a warmth emerge inside his palm. He looked down, expecting a small flame heating up his palm, but there was no such thing.

The warmth moved. It expanded from the dot-like center of his palm to the top of his fingertips. It felt like he had a space heater inside his gloved hand.

"You feel it, good," Maruboshi's voice sounded as Takuma closed his eyes. "Let's move on then."

Takuma took a deep breath, broken up by quivers as the heat moved up his arm, overflowing every inch of his flesh while penetrating deep inside. The heat of the warmth rose, and it was no longer just inside his body; he could feel it exuding outwards into the air in waves.

Soon, his entire arm was drowning in the warmth of whatever Maruboshi had done. But, just as Takuma thought, he was getting used to it. The energy spread out and entered his chest. He literally felt his chest cavity get filled with the same energy. At this point, all thought had seized inside Takuma's head as he followed the energy flow through his body. It was inside his limbs, chest, abdomen, and head— no corner of his body was left behind by the marvelous energy.

Takuma's eyes fluttered open, but only the whites showed with the iris rolled back inside. He couldn't see the sky above, hear the leaves around him, smell the forest around him, feel the touch of grass brushing against his feet, or taste the morning dew suspended in the air— the only thing that existed for Takuma was the energy radiating inside his body.

Eventually, though, the heat left Takuma's body, drained as it radiated out, leaving behind a feeling of empty cold in its wake.

Takuma's eyes snapped forward. He stared at his teacher and opened his lips to speak, but no words left his mouth.

Maruboshi smiled, "I believe you can feel it now."

Takuma didn't dare move an inch; not a muscle twitched if he could help in the fear that if he moved, the new sensation would vanish like smoke in the wind. He could indeed feel it. It felt as though he had gained another sense— a sixth sense outside the primary five.

"T-Two," he croaked out eventually, his voice breaking in process. "I-I can feel two."

Maruboshi's wrinkles deepened as the smile broadened. He didn't speak and let Takuma continue.

"The first one is everywhere... everywhere," Takuma said, his eyes wide like saucers. "The second one is here," he slowly moved his right hand and placed it gently against his lower stomach. "A-and.. and it's made i-in the heart," he finished by touching his chest above his heart.

The feeling was indescribable. One moment Takuma's body was as he knew it to be for five months— however, the next, his body had changed.

'No, it hadn't changed,' Takuma thought. The feeling was new but not foreign— it felt natural... like it was supposed to be this way. He had simply found out something he didn't know before.

"An energy," started Maruboshi, "exists in every living being in the world. A force as true as life itself"— he raised two fingers— "and is the combination of two energies: physical energy present and produced by the billions of cells of the body— and the spiritual energy the gift by one's spirit trained through developing the mind's consciousness, training, meditating, and stimulating experiences." Maruboshi joined his hands in front of his chest and intertwined his fingers. "When called upon, the two energies meld together in the heart and produce the basis of every jutsu— that energy is known as chakra(de aru)."

Maruboshi cupped his hands together, and a moment after, water emerged between them until it overflowed and trickled down onto the grass below them.

Takuma had seen Maruboshi use jutsu before, but the fascination had remained the same. If it was the previous world, the feat in front of him would've been either seen as an elaborate magic trick, or Maruboshi would've been deemed and dubbed as the next coming of God.

He reached forward and dipped a finger in the water. He gasped involuntarily— the water felt cold, it made his finger wet... and that made it real.

In front of his eyes, he had seen water created out of nothing— 'Not nothing,' Takuma thought. 'It was created out of chakra...'

Chakra that he now possessed.

A chuckle and two escaped Takuma. "I can use chakra," it was more breath than sound.

"You indeed can," Maruboshi said, smiling.

"I can use chakra," said Takuma again, to himself more than anyone. He laughed and felt the corner of his lips tug upwards. He smiled for the first time in a week that seemed like a lifetime.

He couldn't hold his form anymore and fell back against the ground. His chest heaved up and down as a sense of lightness lifted him. The sky no seemed to be bearing down on his chest, and the air no longer seemed to weigh down on his body.

He hadn't felt anything like this in a very long time.

"I... I... am going to pass out," Takuma said breathily as his heart thrummed in his heat like a bass drum. "Give me a minute... just a minute, please. Oh shit... oh my god... oh fuck— oh that was horrible."

"Mind your language, Takuma," Maruboshi said sternly.

Takuma couldn't care less at the moment.

He closed his eyes and grinned as far as his lips would allow. Every fear, every nightmare, every single grim thought he had in the last week was unfounded.

He placed a hand on his chest, and beneath it, he could feel the gentle pulsation of his heart. It was the proof. The proof that he possessed it. The most precious and powerful resource in the entire world.

The one thing that would allow him to protect himself.

The thing that would allow him to cast jutsu.

The thing that would allow him to be...

A shinobi.




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[Fiction]

On the last bench of the classroom, gentle rays of sunlight bathed Takuma in its soft warmth.

He had half his tongue sticking out and up of his lips as he scribbled down with a heavy hand on the white page, haphazardly scratching it with the black of the graphite pencil in his grip to form words worse than chicken scratches.

Snap! The exposed nip of the pencil snapped halfway through the page.

"Fuck!"

Kibe turned away from the blackboard and faced the class. He snapped, "Who was that?! Come out on your own!"

Takuma paid no attention to Kibe and glared at the broken tip of his pencil that had left an unwanted mark on the page. No one was going to snitch in the classroom of wannabe shinobis. No one liked a rat, not even potential future spies.

As he reached into one of his storage pouches to take out a kunai to use the blade to carve a new tip on his pencil, Takuma saw a dainty hand push a sky-blue pencil sharpener toward him. He looked up and saw Izumi smiling at him as she motioned toward the pencil sharpener with her big eyes.

Takuma left the kunai in his pouch even though it would've been easier to use the blade and instead used the smaller, thinner blade made from cheap steel attached to the sharpener— he wasn't one to disregard someone's kind help.

"Thank you," Takuma said as he returned the sharpener.

He was about to continue his note-taking from the tactics textbook when Izumi spoke: "So, what happened to you? Kibe-sensei told us you were sick."

Takuma arced his brow at the question. It had been a week since he had returned to the academy, and no one except Kibe had asked him about his health. To be more accurate, he hadn't said a single word in conversation to anyone in the academy since he returned.

He had been out two weeks— the week he was in the coma and the second week of rest prescribed by the doctor. Takuma had wanted to return to the academy during the second week, but Kibe had sent a letter through a carrier bird telling him to rest.

"Chickenpox. Had to stay home to not spread it everywhere," Takuma said. Telling the truth would've been bothersome to explain, and he had a negative desire to share how he had a mental breakdown that put him out of commission for a week.

"What's that like?" Izumi asked curiously. "I never had it."

"Then it's good that I wasn't here. It's highly contagious, with a ninety-percent chance that the people near the infected person will get it. Though if you get it once, you usually don't get it a second time. It wasn't bad— I just had to stay trapped at home and not scratch the itchy parts," said Takuma.

He didn't know if the boy had had chickenpox before, but he had it once in his previous life. It made him wonder if hospitals keep medical records for the children born there.

"Why are you here, though? You sit near the front, don't you?" Takuma asked Izumi.

After five months of attending the academy six times a week, he had a pretty good grasp of his classmates. Uchiha Izumi was a popular girl, well-liked by almost everyone in the class. She got along with the boys because of her boyish aspects, and she seemed genuinely interested in their conversations and activities— it helped that she was pretty. Despite that, Izumi was dominantly feminine in her personality and held similar interests to any other girl her age; her core friend group was all girls. She had a friendly nature and seemed fun to hang around with— and she could wipe the floor with anyone in the class and was in upper rankings in every subject, gaining everyone's respect.

'Your typical star-achiever... literally the complete opposite of me,' Takuma noticed as he thought about it.

"Sitting in the front gets tiring sometimes, you know. Kibe-sensei always asks questions to those who sit in the front," Izumi said with a whine. "I sit in the back and middle, near the sides, when I don't want to pay attention or feel sleepy. I will tell you a secret, the third near the window always has a nice breeze, perfect for a nap.

I was thinking of a nap before the spars. Are you going to fight today?" she asked.

He nodded. He hadn't participated in the spars in the week he had been back. Kibe had decided that he should rest more before returning to spars. But Takuma was sure Kibe just didn't see the point in making him spar and had used his recent hospitalization to not let him fight.

"Any plans to win anytime soon," she asked with a grin.

"Against you? No," Takuma said, scoffing good heartedly. "But I do think my first win is just around the corner. Who knows, if the odds are in my favor, I might grab victory today."

"Oh ho, confident, aren't you," she gave an approving nod. "Good for you."

He indeed felt confident. After five months of training under Maruboshi, he felt he could win if he gave it all and was careful enough not to let any carelessness creep into his actions. He had also unlocked his chakra, and while he couldn't use it for zilch, it still instilled in him a sense of self-confidence.

He was brought out from his musings by Kibe, asking everyone to listen to him.

"There's an announcement you all will be very interested in, so listen well." Kibe waited until everyone was paying attention before saying, "Two months from now, all of you will be giving the first attempt of your graduation test..."

The amount of noise the class made would have easily been registered and charged as noise pollution.

Takuma exhaled a cold one, and even Izumi beside him had a healthy amount of nervousness reflecting in her onyx eyes.

"... I know it's only the first of three attempts, but do not be lax and think you can perform poorly in this attempt. You will regret it if you let even a single chance escape. These tests are very important for your promotion to genins. And you will keep hearing this for two months until the test, so buckle down and get ready— this is the most important time of your lives," Kibe announced to the class.

Graduation test, Takuma licked his lips. He didn't know what all would be tested in the graduation test, but he knew that the Bunshin no Jutsu (Clone Jutsu) was asked in the manga, and he who couldn't use chakra at all had a way before he could execute even the most basic of jutsu.

'I... I can learn it in two months,' Takuma told himself— he just needed to work harder.

The sun had climbed to its apex in the sky and rained down its fury on the mortal plane. And thus, the day arrived at Kibe's chosen time to conduct the sparring sessions for his class. The academy instructor believed that sparring in the height of heat helped build endurance and allowed the students to experience one of many harsh conditions they would face in the field.

Takuma absolutely hated it. He had originally lived in a country with a disgusting amount of hotness in the summers, but he seldom had to experience the inferno-like outsides because air-conditioners existed, and like any sane person, he stayed inside if he could. Sparring right after lunch, when the temperatures were at their daily peaks, was nothing else but sadistic.

The Leaf village's geographical location did the residents no favor. The peak temperatures in summer ranked high on the heat scale. The only place possibly with worse summers was the desert around the Village Hidden in the Sands.

"Takuma, you're fighting today, next up," said Kibe, who stood near Takuma as a spar happened inside the circle.

Takuma groaned. He had been enthusiastic about sparring before, but sitting under the sun without shade did wonders for melting any sort of motivation. He looked around, scouting who could be his opponent. There was only one spar per person, so those who had fought could be eliminated.

'I won't be fighting Izumi... Ugh, don't want to fight with Hideaki,' the Akimichi hit like a cannonball. 'Maybe one of those studious types will be better— I could overwhelm one of them,' thought Takuma as he eyed suitable sparring partners.

"Takuma and Hiji."

Takuma stood up when Kibe called his name, and so did another boy from another part of the circle perimeter.

He immediately made a face when he heard his chosen sparring opponent and the expression worsened when he saw the smirking face of Inuzuka Hiji.

The Inuzuka clan of Leaf village was a shinobi clan known for their use of Ninken (Shinobi Dogs) as fighting companions. The members are given their own canine partner when they reach a certain age. Thereafter, the clan member and their dog were practically inseparable.

"Yo, Takuma~," said Hiji with a growing smirk that showed his teeth and stretched the distinctive red fang markings of the Inuzuka clan on his cheek. The pup with black fur atop Hiji's head yipped and ruffled Hiji's already messy hair.

Takuma didn't return the greeting. His reputation was of someone who didn't talk much, and no one expected him to say anything back. On the other hand, Hiji's reputation was also the part reason why Takuma didn't even want to return a simple greeting.

Hiji was what one would classify as a typical school bully. He defied authority every chance he got— arguing and not listening to Kibe every chance he got— had problems following rules and the code of conduct. And like any bully, he bullied anyone who happened to catch his eye and would allow Hiji to bully them, seemingly deriving pleasure from violence and the suffering of his victims.

"Kibe-sensei..."

Everyone looked and saw another academy instructor in the distance.

"Wait here; I will be back," Kibe said. He narrowed his eyes towards Hiji: "Make any trouble, and I promise pain and stayback after school."

Hiji stuck out his tongue when Kibe turned his back to walk away. He then looked at Takuma and grinned, "I didn't know you were back, Takuma. I hear you kicked the bucket in the hospital, but you look fine... I guess I shouldn't accept rumors so readily, but it sounded so real and possible, so it wasn't my fault. What do you say?"

Takuma showed no reaction. He made his face look as bored and uninterested as possible, like he couldn't care at all about anything Hiji was saying or even paying attention to whatever was being said.

Hiji clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction, and his black ninken growled.

Takuma, on the other hand, was satisfied. This was how Takuma had kept Hiji from making him a target of his bullying. By acting completely unaffected and unbothered by Hiji's actions. Takuma had acted like Hiji didn't exist— and after some petty attempts, Hiji got bored from the lack of reaction and left Takuma alone, pretending he didn't exist.

But those petty attempts had sealed the deal in Takuma's mind. He would never ever get along or be polite with Hiji. His financial condition was dire, with every month being a battle against spending, with thrice thinking before spending even a single ryo (currency).

So when one day Takuma found his books missing from his desk, he felt his heart bleed. He had gotten them back the same day, soaked in water, several pages torn and ruined because of the water. The blatant laughing from Hiji and his posse had given away the culprit.

It was fortunate Takuma was able to reign in the acid-hot rage he had felt seeing his books in such a bad condition. He had shown no reaction, keeping a bored expression the entire time. And had not reported it to drive the uncaring image. However, since that day, he has strictly brought things he absolutely needed and kept his things on him all the time.

"Come to think of it, I can't remember the last time we fought," Hiji said. "It was last year, I think..."

Takuma hadn't sparred against Hiji in his five months of existence as Takuma.

Hiji cracked his knuckles. "It's a rare event; let's enjoy it a lot, eh, Ta-ku-ma~," his grin turned wilder and crueler.

Takuma caught sight of Kibe walking back towards him.

Takuma's eyes narrowed as he clenched his fists. The grin on Hiji's face brought up memories of how he felt when he couldn't find his books.

He decided—

Today, he was going to get his first win.





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[Fiction]

"Ah... that idiot is going to do something stupid."

Izumi stopped playing with the ash-gray puppy lying on her lap with his tummy exposed and looked at Hana, who was frowning. She followed Hana's eyes and found herself looking at Takuma and Hiji standing in the middle of the circle. Takuma had his back to her, but she could see Hiji talking.

That surprised Izumi. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen the two boys talk, if ever. Well, she hadn't seen or heard Takuma talking to anyone— at least, not recently.

"What do you mean?" Izumi asked.

Hana jutted her chin towards the boys. Her nose wrinkled as she said, "That idiot only smiles that way when he's thinking of doing something stupid. I have seen it too many times."

The puppy in Izumi's lap suddenly turned on its belly and hopped away to join his other two triplets in Hana's lap. She giggled as the two other pups seemed displeased at the entrance of their third brother. They tried to push each other to make space on Hana's lap but could only pile up on each other to fit into the small lap, though none seemed uncomfortable and even leaned into Hana's touch as she scratched behind their ears.

Izumi honestly couldn't imagine that the three Haimaru brothers were supposed to be triplets of ferocious ninken capable of tearing apart their enemies with fangs and claws while possessing noses that could pick up even the faintest of scents that had been purposefully obscured and use them to track down their targets.

After all, they were so small and cute.

She turned to the boys. Hiji was Hana's cousin, an Inuzuka from the ninken pup resting atop his head and the same red fang markings on his cheeks just like Hana's. Even their taijutsu styles were the same.

'Duh, they're from the same clan, silly,' she said to herself.

She liked Hana much more than Hiji. Hana was her friend, after all. But she was also smarter than her, nice, and so fun to hang around. And the Haimaru brothers were always together with Hana, which was an added bonus in Izumi's eyes. Hiji, on the other hand, wasn't so nice: he was annoyingly loud, always bothered the class and the instructors, and often did mean things to others.

He once tried to drag her by the ponytail. She had taken revenge the next time they had sparred. He didn't bother her after that.

Izumi looked at the other boy— Takuma. He always seemed... away. Every time she saw him, she would always find him alone and quiet. Be it in classes, during the lunch break, or at the outdoor training lessons, Takuma was always by himself. Even when they went out to the forest to camp, Takuma was always alone, even when he was struggling.

'How can he be so undisturbed?' Izumi had often thought— no matter what was happening in the classroom around him, nothing seemed to matter to him; he kept doing whatever he was doing at that moment.

She knew for a fact that he didn't listen in class; just today, she had seen him reading one of the fourth-year history books and taking notes. She wanted to ask why he was reading last year's book, but he looked so concentrated that she didn't want to bother him. She did manage to find that chickenpox was why he didn't come to the academy for two weeks— she was glad to hear it wasn't something grave.

Izumi saw Kibe return to the field. The spar was about to start.

"—One minute, I say he lasts a minute—"

"—Idiot, that's too much. He will be on the floor in twenty seconds at most—"

Izumi frowned when she heard some of her classmates whisper to each other and laugh. It was rude of them to speak so. But, at the same time, she couldn't deny what they were saying.

Takuma wasn't very good at taijutsu... that was an overstatement— Takuma was bad at taijutsu.

Izumi looked at the boy with his back to her. No matter how she looked at it, Takuma wasn't fit to be a shinobi. He couldn't hold out on his own in spars, his weapon skills were poor— she hadn't seen him hit a bullseye in months, and he couldn't even use jutsu— not even poorly, they just simply didn't seem to work for him.

He was so bad that she couldn't even call him incompetent.

She wanted to ask why he was even in the shinobi academy, but asking that would be rude, so she kept that question to herself.

'He's good at math, though,' she thought. He was unnaturally good at math, finance, and even physics— and could always answer the teacher's questions.

'It would've been better—'

"Start!"

Kibe announced the start of the fight. Hiji wasted not a second and leaped forwards. Takuma had already assumed the standard academy taijutsu stance; he didn't fall backward or charge ahead; instead, he sidestepped Hiji's incoming kick.

'Correct move... but he's too slow,' she thought.

Hiji pivoted on the spot and launched a punch toward Takuma. Whatever chance Takuma had created to counter had vanished by Hiji's superior speed and balance. Takuma could only kick out to match Hiji's punch. Takuma was flung back as result of the impact— the Inuzuka was also stronger than Takuma.

Hiji laughed loudly as he jumped and drop-kicked Takuma right in the chest. Takuma, to give him merit, crossed his arms over to block but was still hurled back violently. Hiji was like an uprooting whirlwind, not allowing Takuma to gain even a moment of foothold. He was like a beast hungry for Takuma's flesh, who could only retreat and defend himself to prevent being ripped apart.

Izumi had fought both the Inuzukas in her class multiple times. The Inuzuka brand of taijutsu leaned heavily on ferocity and pure aggression; it was heavy-handed and attack-dominant. It was brutish and brawlish. So much unlike her own Uchiha style of taijutsu that operated on counterattacks and attacking vital points to cause efficient damage at the most opportune times.

But by no means was the Inuzuka taijutsu crude in nature. Izumi narrowed her eyes as she observed Hiji; even though he was nowhere showcasing his full breadth of skill against a weak opponent like Takuma, she could still see the dexterity and coordination in the movements that required quick reaction timings and high control over one's body.

'He's good,' Izumi thought. Hiji's movements might look sloppy to an untrained eye, but to Izuma, who had trained to look for chances to launch counterattacks, Hiji's attacks looked calculated, and every move was made for a reason.

Between Hiji and Hana, she had to give Hiji an edge regarding taijutsu. Hana was smarter and better than her cousin when it came to other shinobi skills, but in taijutsu, she was no match. The Inuzuka taijutsu simply suited someone like Hiji, who seemed to revel in all-out aggression, in contrast to the much more laid-back Hana.

Izumi glanced at the black pup that sat by the side. Hiji hadn't let his ninken fight with him. There wasn't a need for someone like Takuma. She looked at Hana's Haimaru triplets— it made her wonder if the number of dogs would make a difference. Advanced clan techniques had no place in the academy taijutsu spars. She had yet to see how Inuzuka worked together with their ninken in fights. Just like no one had seen the full extent of what she could do as an Uchiha.

She also couldn't ask Hana. Even though they were friends, things like those were clan-related information— and the only way she would come to know more was either by witnessing it or if she became a trusted teammate with an Inuzuka.

"Stop!"

Kibe announced the end of the fight.

Hiji, who was now on his knees, stopped punching down at Takuma, who was on his back with his hands raised up to protect himself from the flurry of punches that had rained down on him a second ago.

Hiji stood up. He pumped up his arms and hooted in victory. His ninken ran up to him and jumped into his arms, yipping in joy as he licked Hiji's cheek.

As for Takuma... he slowly got to his feet. His face was swollen, and discoloration had already begun to appear; it would only worsen. Even his arms spotted red bruises from taking Hiji's punches and kicks. Izumi could guess there would be other bruises hidden inside the clothes.

'It would've been better if he was in a civilian school,' she thought.

Takuma held his head down as he limped to the middle of the circle and raised his hand to form the Seal of Reconciliation.

Hiji scoffed and walked away without completing the Seal of Reconciliation.

"Hiji, come back here at once!" Kibe yelled at Hiji, but Inuzuka stuck his tongue out before running away.

Kibe could only sigh in return. He turned to Takuma and said, "Go to the medical room and get yourself fixed up... Maybe it was too early to let you rejoin."

Takuma nodded and walked away towards the building with his head hanging down.

"He overdid it," Izumi said. It was called sparring for a reason. People rarely went all out, and even though Hiji had by no means gone all out, he had overwhelmed Takuma beyond what was acceptable.

Hana nodded, her lips pressed into a bitter line. Having a clan member act this way publicly was bad for the clan's image.

Izumi followed Takuma with her eyes until he disappeared into the building.

Today again, he was... alone.

—​

---

—​

Takuma limped his way to the academy's medical room.

Yet another loss. He was used to it by now. A Loss A Day— until he became numb to the feeling of getting beat down by anyone and everyone that was put in front of him.

Yes, he was used to it...

Takuma clenched his fist, but his hand refused to listen to him; no matter how hard he tried, the clench had no strength behind it. He couldn't even do something as easy as that properly.

'— But, I do think my first win is just around the corner—'

Why had he said that? Takuma scolded himself; now, he looked like an ignorant idiot. There was no way a weak man like himself would win a fight.

The irony of the situation was even funnier. He had been beaten black and blue by the same bully he had run away from to avoid trouble.

He had run away.

'You are weak,' said a voice in his head.

To stop the bullying, he hadn't confronted his bully or stood up against him... No, he had run away from the situation by pretending to be unbothered by it. He had thought himself clever by resolving the problem this way, and all it took in return was that he needed to carry his belongings with him.

Takuma scoffed.

All he had done was allow a bully to change a part of his life.

If he had truly settled the bully situation, he wouldn't have to carry all of his books with him for fear of getting them destroyed. If he had truly settled the situation, he wouldn't have to change how he acted around Hiji and his friends.

It was pathetic.

He was pathetic.

'— Maybe it was too early to let you rejoin—'

It was his own fault that he had ended up being beaten into a pulp. If he was stronger, he could've held his ground.

'—I am sorry, young Takuma. This old man will take all the responsibility. It was because of me pushing you that you ended up in such a state—'

If he had been stronger, then he wouldn't have ended up in the hospital. If he had been stronger, Maruboshi wouldn't have looked at him like he was fragile and weak. If he had been stronger, his training load wouldn't have been lightened.

If he had just been stronger...

He reached the medical room. The threshold was uneven, with the medical room floor raised higher than the corridor. Takuma's foot caught up in the edge of the raised floor, and he tripped forward, ending on his knees with his body supported on his elbows.

"Ah! Are you okay, kid!" The nurse came hurrying towards him to help him up.

But Takum wasn't paying attention.

'It's all my fault. None of it would've happened if I had been stronger...'

Takuma clenched his hands into fists. This time they obeyed him. He could feel his nail digging into his flesh.

He needed to be stronger.





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[Fiction]

"This is ridiculous... Ah, NO!"

Takuma said as he frowned hard enough to give himself a unibrow. And the moment he spoke, the leaf stuck between his eyes fell. He tried to grab it but ended up crushing the thin green leaf in his fist.

"Get a new one," Maruboshi said, his eyes closed as he sat in a cross-legged meditative pose.

Takuma groaned as he got up from the grass and sprinted from one edge of the clearing to the furthest opposite end to get a single leaf from a tree before sprinting back to Maruboshi.

Takuma had decided that the Leaf Concentration Practice was the worst thing to happen to him since he had found himself in this world. As it turned out, chakra control was a demanding skill to acquire and train— especially for a rookie as green as the leaf he was holding— and sticking a leaf to his forehead only using chakra was a frustrating way to gain experience in the skill.

And that was not including Maruboshi's hellish penalty of sprinting to and from the furthest tree in the clearing to get a new leaf every time the leaf fell off his forehead. If he thought Maruboshi's previous conditioning exercises were worse, the penalty had made the first week of chakra control training stuff from nightmares as the Takuma was literally sitting down for seconds between sprints to get a new leaf.

The reason? According to Maruboshi: "To give you the motivation to get better faster."

When Takuma heard the words, he thought they made sense, but it took an hour for him to want nothing more than to bash his teacher's face in and yell that he didn't need extra motivation. The morning session had become a dreadful time for Takuma, and every morning, he would spend some time in bed staring at the wall above, thinking about just not getting up to avoid what the day had in store for him.

"You need to release the tension in your mind and body, child," said Maruboshi, his eyes still closed.

"It doesn't help," Takuma scowled as he carefully placed the leaf on his forehead and kept it in place with his finger until he was sure his chakra was gripping it. His hand trembled as he removed his finger, and he breathed a sigh of relief when the leaf remained stuck on his forehead. But the next moment, the grip vanished, and the leaf fell. "See! Relaxing! Doesn't! Help!"

Maruboshi opened his eyes and watched Takuma stand up and run to and from the furthest tree. He spoke when Takuma returned, "Let me ask you this: Do you draw your chakra, or do you reign it in."

"What?" Takuma asked, his breathing weary from all the running. He didn't stick the leaf on his forehead and kept it hidden in his hand. He could use Maruboshi talking to him as a break.

"From my experience, there are two types of people. Those who have to draw their chakra as if pulling water from a well— and those who have to carefully adjust the dial on the tap to stop all the water from bursting out. Which one of these do you think you are?"

Takuma frowned in thought before answering. "The... The second kind. Adjusting the tap to stop the water," he said.

Chakra was made from the physical and spiritual energies inside a person's body. It couldn't be stored. The physical and spiritual energies were stored inside the body— but not chakra. When chakra was needed, the body would meld the two energies together and create chakra, which was then needed to be used within a time frame, after which it would dissipate, wasting the portion of two energies used in the process.

For Takuma, when his body produced chakra, it would be ready to rush out and be used. It was as if it was saying: 'Use me now, or I'm getting out of here.' He never had to pull, as Marubohi had described it, the pool of chakra he had created— it was always letting the correct amount out at just the right rate to make things work.

"Interesting. For me, it has always been pulling my chakra," said Maruboshi, "I have had many friends and acquaintances who describe chakra like you do. They summon their chakra differently than me, but there's one thing that both types do similarly."

"What is it?"

"Using imagery." Maruboshi raised his hands and showed Takuma his open palm. "There's a reason it is easier to summon chakra to hands than somewhere like the forehead, even though the latter is much closer to the heart."

Chakra was produced in the heart and later transported to its target destination through the chakra pathway system to be released through one of the three hundred and sixty-one tenketsu (chakra nodes). The farther the target tenketsu was from the heart, the more challenging it got to control the chakra. That was why controlling chakra in the tenketsu on the soles of the feat was a difficult task.

"It's because we use our hands so much; we can better imagine chakra in our hands than any other place in our body," Maruobshi continued. "Imagination is a powerful tool and can help you effectively utilize chakra until it becomes second nature and comes instinctually to you. Try imagining how you would regulate your chakra as if it were a flowing substance. One of my acquaintances, in the pull category like me, imagined his tenketsu to be straws through which he had to suck his chakra out. Open your mind and try to find the right fit for you."

Takuma nodded. Maruboshi had given him a lot to think about.

"But for now, continue as you were. Leaf to the forehead, please," said Maruboshi.

Takuma's facial expression collapsed in on itself, and he slapped the leaf on his forehead all the while glaring at Maruboshi, who had already closed his eyes in meditation.

The hellish times didn't follow Takuma back home, not other than the shudder in his legs from all the sprinting he did.

Takuma sat at his house's dining table(the only table) with a transparent plastic box in front of him. Inside the box sat square chips made from pieces of newspaper glued together to roughly mimic the size and weight of a leaf. He had brought leaves home to practice but threw them away when he found that his furniture smelled like leaf sap. Paper chips were born as an alternative.

He picked up the paper rigid from the glue and stuck it to his forehead. Unlike when with Maruboshi, he could do the leaf concentration practice in peace inside the warm comfort of his home. The leaf concentration practice had become a staple in Takuma's life. It was the only way he could soften Maruboshi's hell and make it tolerable by getting better in his off-time.

'Imagery,' Takuma recalled Maruboshi's advice. He hadn't thought about using any sort of imagery while using chakra... 'No, that would be wrong,' thought Takuma. There was an image in his mind while practicing: the image of the leaf sticking to his forehead.

But the imagery Maruboshi talked about had to do more with the concept of chakra control than sticking a leaf to the forehead, which was an application of chakra control.

The dynamic of drawing and regulating chakra was new to him. He didn't think he had heard anything like that when he read the manga. It was a fascinating concept, and Takuma found himself thinking about the different types of imagery he could use to help him control the chakra as he continued sticking the falling paper chips back on his forehead.

The tap imagery called out to him. He could picture it easily from doing the action multiple times a day since before he could remember. He was even well-versed in the advanced art of opening the hot and cold water taps to get just the right temperature in the shower.

Then there were pictures of squeeze bottles used for ketchup and other condiments or the simple fountain pen that released ink based on the pressure applied on the nip. Even the imagery of pee-ing crossed his mind, but Takuma didn't want to compare his chakra to pee— even if that image was the most intimate of them all.

Takuma shook his head to dispel the image from his mind.

He decided to give the tap imagery but with a little twist where he imagined a watering pipe instead of a simple tap because all the diagrams of the chakra pathway system he had seen were a network of tubes with tenketsu as the outlet ends. He imagined a regulator on the end of the pipe which controlled the flow.

'I'm the regulator,' Takuma took a deep breath as he held the paper chip against his forehead. The water was chakra. Sticking the paper chip didn't require much chakra. The lighter the object, the less chakra it needed to adhere. Takuma imagined turning the regulator knob just a few degrees to let the faintest amount of water/chakra out.

'It's stuck!' Takuma felt his chakra gripping the paper. He removed his finger, and the paper chip stayed against his forehead.

He didn't celebrate his success as the task wasn't complete. The grip on the paper chip was flimsy at best; the lightest gust of winds could make it fall. The grip needed to be at least strong enough that shaking his head violently wouldn't budge the paper chip in the least.

Takuma twisted the knob a few degrees more to increase the input by just a bit. But contrary to his expectations, chakra came flowing, and the leaf was pushed away like a feather against a puff of wind.

"Ah, shit!" Takuma cursed. "One more time!" He picked up the fallen paper chip and held it against his forehead until a weak grip was established.

'Slowly this time,' he thought as he slowly increased and turned the knob in his imagery, slower and more delicately than the last attempt. The water that had been dribbling out turned into a thin laminar flow stream with zero turbulence.

Takuma slowly stood up, and with his hands clenched, he gingerly moved his head side-by-side. The paper chip didn't fall. He threw a light nodding motion into the mix, and the grip held strong. Takuma grew bolder, and in one fell swoop, he shook his head as though the sickest death metal hooks were playing in his mind.

The paper chip stuck to his forehead as if it had been glued on.

Takuma threw his hand up with a "wooh!" No more running, he thought, feeling the sweet rush of dopamine from his head.

The next moment, the paper chip entered his vision on its way down. Takuma gave it a long stare before picking it up from the floor and sticking it back on his forehead.

He was going to make sure that didn't happen the next day when he met Maruboshi. Even if it took him pulling an all-nighter.

"I have done it," said Takuma with his hands spread wide and a leaf stuck on his forehead. He smiled proudly and showed his progress to Maruboshi as soon as they met.

Maruboshi smiled with an approving nod. "Shake your head," he said.

Takuma confidently attempted to break his neck with forceful head movements, but the green leaf remained on his forehead. The night of practice had paid— he could keep the leaf stuck pretty consistently as long as he didn't get distracted and lose concentration.

"The imagery advice came in handy," said Takuma.

"Excellently done, young Takuma," Maruboshi smiled. He pulled the leaf off Takuma's forehead before immediately giving it back to Takuma. "Now, stick that on your forehead."

Takuma was confused until he looked down at his hand. His smile wiped out as he saw two leaves resting on his palm. He looked up at Maruboshi with disbelief and dread pooling in his eyes.

"Both of those at the same time and on the opposite ends of your forehead," Maruboshi promptly showed exactly where Takuma needed to stick the leaves. "If even one falls, you repeat the penalty."

Takuma felt a tremble travel up his legs.

-.-.-


- Omake: NG! -

—​

He decided to give the tap imagery but with a little twist where he imagined a watering pipe instead of a simple tap because all the diagrams of the chakra pathway system he had seen were a network of tubes with tenketsu as the outlet ends. He imagined a regulator on the end of the pipe which controlled the flow.

'I'm the regulator,' Takuma took a deep breath as he held the paper chip against his forehead. The water was chakra. Sticking the paper chip didn't require much chakra. The lighter the object, the less chakra it needed to adhere. Takuma imagined turning the regulator knob just a few degrees to let the faintest amount of water/chakra out.

"Ah shit, now I gotta pee," Takuma said before running to the bathroom in a hurry.





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[Fiction]

Takuma lumbered his way through a stretch of long golden grass, his eyes sweeping through his surroundings, taking account of everything around him. He put his hands under the straps of his backpack and adjusted the weight on his back by pulling on the adjustable straps.

His eyes caught something he recognized, and he picked up the pace to exit the long grass and reached a shrub-like bush with blackberries, but red and purple, growing from it. They were raspberries. He checked for more signs. The leaves were alternate, compound with three-to-five leaflets and serrate margins. He picked one berry, and it left behind a core on the stem. He was sure he had found raspberries. He ate the ripe ones from the bush.

They were sweet.

Takuma glanced at the sky and squinted his eyes from the sun in his eyes. By his estimates, it was already around noon. He hoped he was right; telling time from the sun wasn't his specialty.

Using the sun to take note of his direction, he looked eastwards where he was headed. He looked back westwards, and he already couldn't see any of Leaf village or signs of civilization. The thought of turning back and returning home crossed his mind, but he squashed the thought and continued to trek deeper into the wilderness.

After a couple kilometers, Takuma audibly sniffed the air. The scent of moisture was heavy in the air. There was a water body nearby. His eyes shined with excitement as he strained his ears for any sound of water. He knew there was a lake around here somewhere; he had checked it on reliable maps while planning for this excursion.

'There,' the faint sound was coming from the right. He ran towards the sound and entered a stretch of trees before the view opened up, and Takuma found himself staring at a serene lake that reflected the blue sky doubted with clouds like the world's smoothest mirror.

The sight stunned him. He had always lived in a city and never got the opportunity to visit the great outdoors. All the trips he ever took were to metropolitan cities. The only time he had gone somewhere away from the fast life of a city had been on a middle school trip to a farm, and even that was full of comfortable amenities.

Even the Leaf village, with its overflowing greenery seemingly built into the design of the city— it was still a fast-moving city. A place that was a hub for the shinobi population for an entire nation could never ever be considered anything else than metropolitan.

This was his first time looking at such raw nature with nothing manmade in sight.

He took a step forward to get closer to the lake when he kicked something. A metal can sat a couple feet from his foot; it seemed he was wrong... there was something man made near him.

Takuma picked up the can and sighed. The soda can had DO NOT LITTER clearly embossed on the top, yet someone had done just that.

He put the can in one of his pouches. His attention was now taken away from the beautiful lake and focused on the ground around him. If there was a can nearby, then there were good chances he could find a camp sight used by someone else.

'—It is usually like that; the best spots are always used by someone else before—'

Takuma walked around until he found what he was hoping for. A perfectly flat piece of level ground framed by big stacks of old and decimated thick tree logs on three sides. He crouched and touched the dirt— it was dry. The perfect place became even more perfect.

Taking a step back, Takuma observed the area when it struck him.

"A cabin... this was a cabin," he muttered to himself. The logs were the remains of a cabin that stood on the ground once.

Takuma felt fortunate, very fortunate. Finding a place to camp so quickly after his arrival at the destination was nothing less than a blessing. And looking at the sky, it would've been a problem if he hadn't found a place to camp quickly.

This was going great, Takuma thought. Out of his checklist, he partially had two items checked off— a place to camp and a water source. To completely check them off, he would need to build his shelter and set up a fire to get the water boiling. And in making the fire, he would've checked off the third item on his list.

He put his backpack down. It had been a while since he had used it other than carrying groceries. But since he couldn't use storage seals, he had to carry the extra baggage in a backpack.

'I wonder when he will teach me fuinjutsu,' Takuma thought as he took out his sleeping gear from his backpack.

Before he could set up his shelter, he needed to clear off the campsite in preparation. He retrieved a kunai and began slashing off the low-hanging branches of the trees around him— it would've been a problem if one of those poked him in the eye.

As Takuma was cutting off branches, he froze. He hurriedly looked up before breathing a sigh of relief. There was nothing above him that could fall on him and kill him when he was either sleeping or not paying attention.

"Always-always check for widowmakers," he repeated to himself with a hand above his heart.

After the preparation work, the sleeping gear came out. Takuma used the jute rope he had brought to tie up a large tarp(he had found for very cheap) to nearby trees and stumps to make a roof over his head. The tarp was big enough to provide cover to three people, but Takuma knew it was only suitable for one person because if it rained, only the person in the middle would be dry. And under the tarp-roof went a thick wool spread he had brought to use as a mattress.

Next was the most important part of the shelter— the bug net. Takuma didn't know how nasty the bugs were this season, but he had purchased a bug net anyway as an investment. He hooked the net to the tarp ceiling and used heavy stones to pin the net around the wool mattress spread.

"Alright, next is fire," Takuma shook his hands together to get the dust off.

A dozen steps from his bed, Takuma piled up the rocks he got from the lakeside into a Well shape with a stone base.

"Starter... starter... starter," Takuma squinted his eyes as he tried to remember what he had learned about fire making. Firewood was the fuel to keep the fire burning, but a starter was needed to produce the embers that could later turn into a fire.

Takuma wandered around the woods, looking from tree to tree to find what he could use as a starter. After half an hour of searching, Takuma found his requirement near the base of a birch tree. The birch tree shed its dry outer bark in sheets that fell near the base— and while it was a waste to the tree, it was a treasure for Takuma.

Back at the fire-well, Takuma took out the most advanced piece of technology on his person. A Ferro rod. Making fire out of scratch was unbelievably tough— he had tried it training and had failed to produce even a ghost of a spark— and because of his poor mastery over chakra, he couldn't use the survival class of jutsu like Katon: Nokoribi no Jutsu (Fire Release: Ember Technique) which would produce a decent puff of fire hot enough to set wood on fire.

Fortunately, technology had given birth to a Ferro rod. Takuma had no idea about the science behind it, but what he knew was that it worked. He placed the birch bark in the fire-well and squatted near it with the Ferro rod in one hand and his kunai in the other. He scrapped the sharp edge of the kunai against the length of the Ferro rod, and as the rod of it, sparks shot out towards the direction the kunai moved. He repeated the process until the birch bark caught one of the sparks and started to burn.

He threw the rod and kunai to the side, and as he had practiced a few times before, he breathed on the burning bark to keep the embers alive and burning hot. He hurriedly placed the dry branches he had cut off during the camp sight preparation into the fire well and breathed into it to fan the flames until the branches caught on fire.

Takuma leaned away with a bright smile. He had secured a fire in the wilderness.

However, the job wasn't done. The branches were only going to keep the fire burning for so long. He needed to get more fuel... fuel that would burn for a while.

But first, Takuma took out a lidded metal pot from his backpack and emptied out the small packet of salt and a tiny plastic bottle of oil inside. With shelter and fire secure, water became the most essential priority.

Takuma went to the lake and scooped the pot full of lake water. That water, however, wasn't drinkable just yet. Takuma brought the pot to the fire and put it into the fire-well to get the water to a rolling boil.

"Time to be butch," Takuma took off his shirt and went topless. He picked up the long forest ax hanging from the side of his backpack and went to the nearby woods to find a tree to cut off.

He returned with thin logs cut from two long and narrow trees. Removing his shirt was a wise idea. He didn't have a change of clothes, and ax-ing down a tree made him work up a sweat. He dumped two of the many logs into the fire and went down into the lake to take a dip in the cool water while the water in the pot rose to a boil.

By the time Takuma returned from the lake, the sun had dropped down and pulled the evening along with it. Refreshed, he sat down beside the fire, waiting for the boiling water in the pot to cool down till he could drink it.

The beauty of the surroundings sucked in Takuma. He could hear the gentle brushing of the leaves; they seemed to have so much more depth than the one he heard back at home. The ground beneath him was cool and felt nice even if he was sitting in loose dirt. As the sun turned down, the water glimmered in a mesmerizing light, and Takuma could make out the fishes swimming just under the surfaces.

Seeing the fish made Takuma think about food. He hadn't brought any with him. If he wanted to eat, he needed to procure food on his own. And looking at the lake in front of him, fishing seemed to be the best option to get food.

'Can't do it now,' Takuma looked above the evening sky. He didn't have much time left in the light. He decided that foraging was the better option right now.

The water had cooled down, ready to be consumed. Takuma licked his dry lips as he raised the pot. He had run out of water long before he reached the lake; this water would be his first drink in several hours. He gulped it down hungrily while making sure not to waste any by spilling it on himself. Even though boiled lake water tasted different from the one he got at home, after several hours of thirst, it was the most satisfying he could drink at that moment.

The pot emptied before Takuma knew it, so he went to the river to refill it. When he returned, the fire was out. Takuma groaned but had a fire going in the next quarter hour.

He then hurriedly set out to forage for berries around the campsite for dinner. He found raspberries and winter berries in the bushes and wanted to look for some mushrooms, but the insufficient light restricted his movement and forced him to retire to his camp.

For dinner, Takuma dined on berries from the forest and water from the lake. It wasn't filling at all, but he knew his body now had enough sugar to keep him going.

He gazed up at the dimming sky as the sound of night crickets filled his surroundings. Sitting there with nothing but a tarp as his roof, Takuma felt exposed like he had never been. He didn't know what time it was— maybe somewhere between six and seven— if he was in the village, he would be finishing his evening training session and returning home to start dinner preparations, but because there was no artificial light, he was preparing to go to sleep just like how it worked before normalizations of candles and then electricity.

And tomorrow, he was going to wake early at the first sign of light to start his day by preparing for fishing in the hopes he would get some chunky protein that would fill his stomach so that he could survive one more day in the wild.

As for today, he was going to sleep.

But not before re-making his poorly lit fire that had gone out yet again.





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[Fiction]

Takuma jumped up to avoid Hiji's leg sweep and tried to crush one of his legs by landing on it, but Hiji pulled his leg back at the last moment. Both met eyes to gauge each other's next moves; it only lasted a split-second before Hiji sprung up, and Takuma jumped back.

Hiji immediately charged forward while Takuma stayed his feet on the ground and squared off. Hiji used his momentum to rip a front kick into Takuma's chest that missed as Takuma sidestepped, resulting in Hiji being off balance. An opportunity Takuma used and stomped on Hiji's knee.

'— joints are weak; when the chance presents, attack them mercilessly —'

Or so Maruboshi had said during their training and demonstrated the point by twisting Takuma's elbow until he thrashed on the ground like a helpless fish out of water.

Takuma didn't want to inflict that kind of pain on anyone, but even the thought of Hiji's name brought about a bubbling acid-like cruelty in him. The memories of that horrible day and their recent fight made him forget about his inhibitions. And a part of his mind wished to see Hiji writing on the ground, grabbing his shattered knee.

Before Takuma could land the hit, something crashed into his stomach, knocking the living air out of his lungs. His body folded as he went back off balance. Not only had the kicking leg lost balance, but Takuma couldn't even bring it back to keep himself from falling. The dust rose up as his back met the ground.

Takuma felt a weight on his chest and opened his eyes to find Hiji's black ninken growling at him with feral eyes and sharp fangs in full view. The loud bark made Takuma flinch.

"Heel, Kuragari!" Hiji said. The ninken jumped off, leaving a searing pain in Takuma's abdomen. "Nice, very good," Hiji laughed, making Kuragari yip.

Hiji rammed a kick into Takuma's side, making him cough out his spit. Then Hiji loomed over Takuma, peering down at him with a feral grin resembling a rabid animal.

"You're never going to win, loser~," Hiji said with a sing-song voice before, and Takuma saw the bottom sole of Hiji's boot coming down on—



Takuma opened his eyes with a jolt as his body shot up. His hands clawed the woolen spread below him as his legs dragged the lower end up, pulling it free from the rock used at weighted stoppers.

For a moment, he frantically looked around before his chest relaxed. The trees, bushes, and logs around and the gentle sound of the lake in the background made him realize where he was.

Takuma covered his face as he sat in the makeshift camp bed. Sleep hadn't come to him easily last night, and he had been rolling in the bed for most of the night. The bed wasn't comfortable, and it had rained suddenly in the night, making Takuma fear the integrity of his tarp roof.

Whatever sleep did come to him was ruined by the horrible nightmare that wiped any sense of rest he might have otherwise felt.

Heaving a sigh, Takuma got out of the bug net— something he was extremely thankful for bringing. The swarm of bugs, flies, and mosquitos that came to his door last night was absurd; the cacophony of their sounds was nightmare fuel that plagued Takuma with thoughts about what would've happened to him if the bug net wasn't there. It was the rain that had saved them from the horrifying thought.

The rain had brought a morning chill to the morning. Only the tip of his nose felt warm as Takuma placed his pot near the edge of the tarp and pulled it down to collect the accumulated rainwater into it. The water was cold and soothed his throat as he gazed at the early morning scenery.

He wished he owned a camera to capture the sight before him. But because he didn't own one, he could only sit down and record it in his memory while his hands warmed up inside his pants. (lol)

The fire had fizzled out long before the rain came pouring down. There was no point in rebuilding the fire when everything was wet, and it would've been dangerous in the darkness. Plus, he was scared that the bugs would rush in if he pulled up the net, rendering the protection moot.

The wet firewood was cleared out, and new birch bark and firewood were used to light a new fire. Upon which he put another pot of water to boil.

"I'm hungry," Takuma muttered as he picked up his ax and went among the woods to get a thin but sturdy log. He was going to use it to make his fishing rod. He chopped down the log to half the length of his arm and then proceeded to shave off the outer bark to reveal the white flesh inside until he was sure that he was sure he could properly grip it in his hand.

Even the cheapest fishing rods were too expensive for Takuma to buy, and unlike the bug net, which he could use at home, he didn't know how often he would use a fishing rod. So buying one was out of the question. But there were other supplies that he could afford.

Takuma took out a pack of fishing line, hooks, and leaders. Along with the makeshift rod, that was all he needed to make a functioning fishing rod. He tied the fishing line around the rod with the leader attached to one end and the hook attached to the leader. Takuma, who hadn't ever seen a fishing rod before he learned to fish in this world, didn't know that some fish could chew throw the fishing line, which is why fishing leaders existed and were made from a material that couldn't be chewed through.

Now that the equipment was built, Takuma only needed one more thing. He went to a part of the lakeshore he had walked yesterday and caught a frog to use as a bait.

"Thank you for your contribution," Takuma said before smashing the frog with a log.

With the bait ready, Takuma went to the lake and cast his line into the water. Now, he just had to wait for a couple fishes to sniff up the delicious frog meat, and he would have the food he craved. And seven in the morning was supposedly the best time to fish, so Takuma thought it would be only so long.

So, he waited and cast again... he waited and cast again... but after what felt like an hour, Takuma paused fishing for a moment. He frowned and decided to remove the frog as the bait. He needed something else.

"Oh!" Takuma ran back to his campsite and got the soda can he had picked up yesterday. He cut off the top of the can and cut out a rectangle with semicircles on the ends with jagged edges. He threaded the leaders through two holes in the newly fashioned rounded rectangle and got back to fishing in the hopes that a fish would get attracted to the shiny metal and get stuck from the jagged edges when trying to bite.

Takuma could almost smell the scent of cooked fish.

But soon, he ran into another problem. Without any bait, the lure was too light. Takuma spent considerable time casting the line, but with the low weight, the line had no momentum and fell far short of where Takuma wanted. After dozens of tries, Takuma decided to bring back the frog bait.

He went to catch another frog which took half an hour because he lost the carcass of the first one and the entire frog population seemed to be playing hide-and-seek against him. By the time Takuma had found a frog, the sun had risen considerably, thus bringing up the heat, and he had wasted away the prime time for fishing as fish swam near the surface when the temperatures were cooler.

But Takuma couldn't give up. He had devoted too much time and effort to fishing, and giving up now would waste all that effort. He cast his line again, and for the next three-quarters of an hour, no fish even sniffed his lure.

Soon after, Takuma's hunger triggered frustration, and he was about to give up and simply forage for food when there was a tug on his line.

For a moment, he thought he had imagined it. He stared at where the line dipped into the water. Tug. His eyes bulged as this time he not only felt, but he also saw it.

Takuma pulled with the full vigor of a hungry man with a feast within his sight.

Splash!

The catch was out of water. It was a lake bass— a big bass. He stared at the flapping fish for a moment before grabbing the fish firmly and running towards the land, far away from the water. He was not going to let the fish flop its way out of the hook and back into the sea.

"Holy shit," Takum muttered as he looked at the fish on the ground. When he had started fishing, when it was still morning, he had thought he would catch a couple of fish, somewhat sorting out his meal for the day. As the day continued, his hopes were dashed smaller and smaller until he was going to be happy if he caught something— even the thinnest fish with slivers of meat on bones would've made him happy.

But laying in front of him was a fish of considerable size. It was big enough that he could get a more than filling meal just with the fish by itself back at home. In the wild, though, the size was enough to be portioned into two sustaining meals for the day. They wouldn't fill him, but he wouldn't have to sleep hungry.

Once again, Takuma regretted that he couldn't photograph the biggest fish he had ever caught.

Meal preparations begin very shortly, motivated by the hunger bubbling in Takuma's belly. He drank the lake water he had put on the boil, which had even cooled down as the fire had gone out again. The pot was going to be the cooking vessel. He was going to filet the fish and eat the filet and use the rest of the fish to make fish head soup for dinner.

He cut up the fish with his kunai, which because of its shape, did a terrible job. He had been told to bring a proper multipurpose hunting knife, but he had not heeded the advice for monetary reasons— and because he thought there was nothing a kunai couldn't do.

He lit another fire and used the last of the birch bark as the starter. He wasn't worried as he could find more, and other things in the forest could be used as starters— but until then, he had to keep the fire going as without it, he wasn't getting any food even if he had the fish.

And then he waited. After early morning hours of hard work, Takuma laid back on the ground and watched the scenery. It got boring soon, and he wished he had brought a book or something. But he did see a couple places he could go trekking.

The filets were done. Takuma had fashioned a picking utensil from the wood. He put the filet into his mouth, expecting it to be the most delicious thing he had eaten, but it tasted what it was— salted fish, quite bland. Takuma beamed nevertheless— even if it wasn't the tastiest, it was the most satisfying thing he had eaten.

Washing off the sweat from fishing by taking a dip in the lake, Takuma went on the trek he had planned. He was going to explore the area while looking for items like birch bark for fire and forage cattail and mushroom to have along with the fish head soup.

Walking around in the forest gave Takuma a plethora of new experiences. There were so many little things he noticed that left impressions. Everything from the distinct sounds of the birds to the different nasty bugs had surprisingly vivid colors. He even found four types of berries in the forest, each with a different taste, which he gladly stuffed into his pouches for a snack. He replenished his supply of birch bark.

As he trekked deeper into the forest, he found a mushroom near a tree. He jumped over a fallen log to reach the mushroom when the ground collapsed under him, and one of his feet sank to mid-thigh. Takuma tried to grab the ground near him in a frightened panic, only to find that the loose group crumbled in his grip.

"Okayokayokay," Takuma breathed out to calm his thrumming heart that beat like a jackhammer. Deep breathing didn't help, but Takuma did fight through the flooding thoughts to observe his surroundings.

'There's a tree behind you.' Takuma turned his head and stared at the fallen tree he had jumped over. He grabbed onto it and then turned slowly, his sunken leg sinking a little deeper, until he had both arms firmly on the log. He used the heavy log to pull himself out of the sunken ground.

Laying against the log, Takuma breathed heavily as his chest heaved up and down. He stared at the sky that peered through the tree canopies with his last few moments blaring through his mind.

He was alone in the wilderness with no way to contact home. Neither did he have any companions— he was utterly alone. If he got hurt enough to get himself immobilized, that was the end for him. Even if someone came from him, there were chances that it would be too late. Even if he wasn't completely immobilized, any injury that hindered his mobility could prove fatal to him— the walk back home was long, and who knew what could happen on that journey.

Takuma sat himself up and glanced back at the mushroom.

"You gotta be kidding me," he groaned when he saw the mushroom growing directly from the ground. Because the mushroom was near the tree trunk base, he thought it was crown tipped mushroom that grew on wood. Even though this mushroom did look like crown tipped mushroom, as it grew directly from the ground, he had no idea if it was edible.

He had conceivably risked his life for something that was possibly poisonous.

Takuma sat against the log until he had calmed down before moving on. Having decided that he had had enough trekking, he headed back towards the campsite.

On the way back, Takuma did end up finding two lovely chanterelle mushrooms that smelled of lovely apricots. The unexpected finds raised his spirits, and by the time he reached the camp, his mood was a lot better.

After a gulp of cooled-down boiled lake water stored in the plastic bottle he had carried with him from home that had his initial supply of water, Takuma immediately wanted to start on dinner preparation. For that, he had to restart the fire he had once again gone out in his absence.

He stuffed his hand into his pocket to take out the Ferro rod— but the pocket was empty. He patted down his other pocket, then looked into the first pocket again, but the Ferro rod was nowhere to be found. What followed next was Takuma looking into his weapon pouches for the Ferro rod while feeling an emotion identical to the panic when he suddenly couldn't find his phone in his pocket in public.

Takuma raided his place to find the Ferro rod... alas, it was nowhere to be found.

"Oh, fuck no," he said in despair as he fisted his hair. He realized what had happened. He had the Ferro rod on him when he went on the hike, and it had probably slipped from his pocket somewhere along the way. Takuma looked toward the path he had traveled and contemplated going back to the spot where he had fallen. But decided against it because the sun would've already set by the time he returned.

A fire was essential in the wild— without it, he had neither food nor water to drink. Takuma didn't know how to start a fire without a Ferro rod. The Ferro rod was the ultimate fire starter tool— if it got wet, a simple was enough to get it working, whereas things like lighter and matchsticks could instantly become useless— plus, it required no fuel.

'Should I try the bow drill?' Takuma thought. He had no success before, and doing it outside a controlled environment didn't improve his chances.

"SHIT!"

Takuma got up and built a bow drill with wood and the remaining jute rope. He found the driest and thinnest piece of birch bark to use as the tinder and began drilling against a dry wood piece to create enough heat to light the dry birch. But after half an hour, Takuma's arms hurt, and he gave up starting a fire.

He was left with a pot with uncooked fish head and scrap meat. Logic dictated that he should throw the fish away, but there was still hope in his mind that he would find the Ferro rod somewhere around the campsite. To give light to his hopes, Takuma searched the campsite for the Ferro rod but ended up empty-handed.

In the end, Takuma threw away the fish and washed the pot. Now, he had no water and couldn't cook the mushrooms. The only thing he could eat was a handful of berries.

Deciding that he had had enough, Takuma retired early. He got into the makeshift bed, ate the berries, and laid down until sleep took him. The second night was no better than the first night— and sleep was irregular and uncomfortable.

The following day, Takuma woke up early. He packed up all of his gear and reset the campsite. It hadn't rained last night, so there was no safe rainwater to drink. Hungry and thirsty, Takuma set out westwards— back home.

The journey back was arduous and left Takuma irritated with the occasional berries as the only joyful thing.

After half six hours of walking, the Leaf village arrived in his view. The village had other gates than the big one in the front, each guarded by guards. Takuma showed them his identity documents and answered a few questions before they let him inside.

He tiredly walked through the streets, working towards his home. He wanted to drink water, stuff his face with whatever he could find in his fridge, and take a bath— all before heading to an eatery that gave the most quantity for an affordable price.

"You are back, young Takuma."

Takuma turned his head as he continued to walk; he only stopped when he saw Maruboshi with a grocery bag in his hand.

"Oh... yeah, I just got back," Takuma pointed towards his dirty clothes.

The teacher-student pair moved to an empty bench to the side.

"How was it?" Maruboshi asked.

"I lost my Ferro rod," Takuma said with slumped shoulders and didn't look at Maruboshi.

Maruboshi heartily laughed behind his hand.

"Oh, come on," Takuma whined.

The multi day survival trip in the wilderness was Maruboshi's idea to let Takuma experience what it felt like to camp outside on missions. But Maruboshi went a step forward and only allowed him only basic gear without food or water to really get him ready for the unexpected.

"I did tell you to take care of it," Maruboshi said. "It is a small thing, easy to misplace. I only told you because I myself have lost mine— two times."

Takuma groaned again.

"What about everything else?"

Takuma sighed, "Lucky, very lucky, actually. I found the perfect place to camp— flat, dry, and near a lake. The lake solved the water problem. Fire wasn't a problem until I lost my Ferro rod. I ate berries on the first day— on the second day, I fished, and it took hours to catch one, but the one I caught was big," Takuma smiled proudly. "I could only eat the filets and was planning to cook fish head soup, but I lost the Ferro rod."

"It seems you're happy with your first excursion."

Takuma nodded. If he eliminated losing the Ferro rod, the experience would be near perfect.

"Seeing that you have returned from a tiring journey, how about I treat you to dinner this evening," said Maruboshi, dangling the grocery bag.

"No, thank you, but it's alright, you don't have to," Takuma looked at the sky above... it wasn't as beautiful as he had seen in the wilderness.

"I'm tired today," he sighed.



-.-.-


A/N: Wow, I think this is going to be my first Author's Note here.

• Let's see. First, — ARC-01 [Sakura Colored Days of Shinobi Academy] —is now complete on Patreon. I'm already four chapters into ARC-02 (Unititled).
  
  
• I used to do it a lot, commenting upon the future of the story that is, but I have stopped doing it because I think it took away from storytelling. But, given how the story progression is panning out— there's payoff for the hardship already written in the upcoming chapters of ARC-01. And I will admit that that ratio of hardship-to-payoff is skewed towrards hardship in this ARC-01— but it seemed right when I wrote it out.
  
  
• I'll admit that this fic can be sometimes unsatisfying to read like this, I have got that feedback from everywhere and that's completely my fault, and am actively working on adjusting the harship-to-payoff ratio combined with satisfying story beats.
  
  
• I'm always open to interesting ideas, so if you have things you want to see in this fic, post your replies here or come down to Discord— there's like 2200 members strong community (brag, thankyouverymuch) who read the content I write— I'm there regularly to answer queries. I will, of course, will reply here as well, if you prefer to keep the discussion here— I'm a comment-slut in need of validation. XD. Link's below in the signature.

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[Fiction]

"You have certainly gotten better."

Takuma blocked a punch from Maruboshi by forcing it off mark using his forearm. The next moment, he grabbed hold of Maruboshi's arm and pulled the older man forward and down while thrusting the elbow of his other arm toward Maruboshi's face.

Maruboshi's other hand grabbed the offending elbow and thwarted the blow. Takuma suddenly felt Maruboshi was as heavy as a boulder, and he couldn't pull him down anymore. Maruboshi straightened up and pushed Takuma's elbow to the side while sweeping his legs— Takuma spun until he was parallel to the ground before kissing the dirt.

"Get up," Maruboshi peered at Takuma, who groaned as he pushed himself off the ground and stood in front of Takuma. Maruboshi walked around Takuma and nodded appreciatively, "Only two falls— you have certainly gotten better indeed."

Takuma didn't have a shirt on and was wearing shorts on the bottom— and stuck on his exposed skin were two dozen or so leaves; they were on his face, chest, abdomen, back, arms, legs— everywhere.

Takuma had come a long way since his attempts in the leaf concentration practice to weakly stick one leaf to his forehead. Now, he could stick multiple leaves on various parts of his body and adhere them strong enough that they didn't come off even while sparring. The faint smell of leaves that had become part of his morning that sometimes wouldn't go even after taking a bath was worth it for the progress he had made.

"I think we are ready to move onto the next step," Maruboshi said and took out a 1-ryo coin from his pocket.

Takuma's eyes bulged out, and he immediately raised his hands. "Wait, wait— stop. I want to talk about something with you," he said, and all the leaves fell down from his body.

"Oh, what is it?"

Takuma stared for a moment at the coin, horrified by the implications, before clearing his throat. "The first attempt of my graduation test is coming up soon" — the academy took three attempts at the graduation test and used those three attempts to judge the student's performance. — "they're obviously going to ask us to perform ninjutsu in the test. Can we start learning jutsu... I don't want to embarrass myself in front of the invigilators," he looked up at Maruboshi with a mix of nervousness and discontent.

Maruboshi had stayed true to the words he had once said about priorities, and jutsu had been sidelined to make time for more essential skills required for survival and competence in the field. While Takuma had acquiesced with the decision back then, with the first attempt looming over his head, he couldn't ignore the lack of jutsu in his repertoire.

"Takuma, we discussed this before; jutsu is not important for you right now and—"

"Yes, I remember that conversation, and while I understand and agree with your reasoning— it's also a fact that if I can't perform the jutsu taught in the academy, I will be failed," said Takuma, accentuating his words.

"It is only the first attempt; we can prepare jutsu for the next attempt," said Maruboshi.

Takuma crossed his arms. He asked, "Do you know the grading criteria? Can you say for sure that it's the best out of three and not some form of aggregation?" Kibe had stated that passing any one of the three tests guaranteed graduation— but not once had he said that it was the only criterion. Takuma knew his test results weren't going to reflect an image of an exemplary student, but he still wanted to set himself to score the best he could.

"I... I do not think—" Maruboshi pursed his lips. "No... I am not aware of the grading criteria."

"Survival and competence are important; I'm not arguing against that point. But I also consider my future to be of high importance. If these test scores decide where my life is heading in the short term, then I, one hundred percent, absolutely want to perform the best I can," said Takuma. He shrugged, "I will learn these jutsus even if I have to learn them by myself— but I'd very much prefer to learn from you. The thing is, I'll give learning jutsu a portion of my day; that will cut in on the training regime you have me follow on my own. By agreeing to teach me, you can control the time I devote to learning jutsus for the test."

Takuma stopped. He had laid down his card. It was up to Maruboshi to decide how he would spend his days moving forward.

Maruboshi eventually heaved an old sigh. "I believe you are right. The words you say carry logical sense," he said, but there was a pity in his eyes that Takuma couldn't place. "As you wish, we will include jutsu into your regime, but only the three academy jutsu."

Takuma mentally pumped his arm.

"What do you know about academy three?" asked Maruboshi.

"Henge no Jutsu (Transformation Jutsu), Bunshin no Jutsu (Clone Jutsu), and Kawarimi no Jutsu (Body Substitution Jutsu)," Takuma counted off the three standard jutsu that were taught in the Leaf village's shinobi academy and were synonymously known as the academy three. "Transform the body into someone or something; Create illusory clones; Replace yourself with something or someone to avoid attacks."

"That is correct," Maruboshi said. "But before we begin learning these jutsus, there is something else we must make ourselves familiar with." Maruboshi joined his hands with his index and middle fingers standing up and pressing against each other. "On the base of every jutsu are the hand seals associated with them."

"Tiger seal," Takuma recognized the hand seal.

"Very good," smiled Maruboshi. "Hand seals allow us shinobi to cast all ninjutsu, genjutsu, and in rare cases, even some taijutsu. You will find that hand seals are deeply rooted in the life of a shinobi as the miraculous mechanism allows us to harness and wield chakra in ways unimaginable without them. They are designed to aid a shinobi in properly invoking and molding chakra necessary to perform a jutsu."

'What about Rasengan?' thought Takuma, but didn't raise it out loud— he wasn't supposed to know about one of Fourth Hokage's signature jutsu; he hadn't found any records mentioning the Rasengan, much less Fourth Hokage using it.

"There are twelve hand seals that are universally considered to be basic hand seals that every shinobi must know. A combination of these twelve hands seals allows a skilled shinobi to cast every jutsu there exists under the sun... with only the rare exception here and there," said Maruboshi.

Takuma immediately asked, "By basic hands seals, do you mean there are more of them? Also, what are these exceptions?"

"Curious one, aren't you," Maruboshi chuckled. "The answer to both of those questions is partially connected. Do you know of kekkei genkai (bloodline limits), young Takuma?"

Takuma nodded. "A kekkei genkai is an anomaly of the DNA that allows the wielder to use unique jutsu. They're passed down between generations of a clan and thus are hereditary in nature." He looked down at his feet, "Our village is the host to the Uchiha and Hyuga, the possessors of the dojutsu kekkei genkai— Sharingan and Byakugan, respectively. I have an Uchiha in my class."

Takuma knew of the exceptions that existed to the hereditary rule in this very village in the form of the Copy Ninja of a Thousand Jutsu, Hatake Kakashi— but Takuma was yet again not supposed to know that.

"Correct yet again," said Maruboshi. "The twelve hands seals are not the limit. The shinobi who belong to shinobi clans possess special jutsu that require hand seals outside that of the basic twelve to activate; these special hand seals are mostly seen used by shinobi with a kekkei genkai. The clans have developed those hand seals to release their jutsu, and these types of special hand seals won't do anything for you as you don't possess the special bloodline."

"Does that mean I can possibly invent a new hand seal?" asked Takuma.

Maruboshi laughed and ruffled Takuma's hair. "If you work hard in learning and discovering the mysteries of chakra, then yes— there is no reason why you couldn't discover a new hand seal."

Takuma licked his lips before posing a question he was most interested in. "What... What about not using hand seals? Can a shinobi cast jutsu without hand seals," he asked tentatively. Takuma had seen how, as the manga had progressed, hand seals had faded into near non-existence— he wanted to know if that was simply the author's folly or had that translated to this very real world somehow.

"... It is possible," Maruboshi nodded softly, "but it is extremely difficult. Casting jutsu without hand seals is a feat of skill so extraordinary that seeing someone capable of it is to be in the presence of greatness. I myself do not possess such a skill. Understand, young Takuma, in the heat of battle, when one's life can end the next moment, hand seals are the heavenly aid that takes the burden of invoking and molding chakra in a precise and specific manner required to release a jutsu off a shinobi— they don't do the job for you, but the help they provide is... it can't be discounted. Eliminating hand seals requires a profound understanding of chakra and an ungodly skill for the jutsu. Shinobi capable of doing so only appear once in a generation."

So it was possible. That came as a surprise for Takuma. From Maruboshi's words, though, it sounded like not using hand seals was a feat of legends.

"However, I will describe eliminating hand seals as a journey," said Maruboshi.

"... What?"

"One does not go from using hand seals to no hand seals in one swoop, young Takuma. That is not how it works. Hands seals stimulate chakra in your body, but as we know from the leaf concentration practice, we can manipulate chakra without a hand seal," Maruboshi showed his palm, and the 1-ryo coin was stuck to it. "If you someday obtain a greater understanding of chakra and develop some skill in chakra, you will find that you can mimic the effects of hand seals on your own— and that will allow you to -reduce- the number of hand seals."

"Reduce?" Takuma tilted his head in confusion.

"Jutsu are cast by executing a combination of hand seals in a particular order. Every hand seal in that combination means something; it has some function— a function that, with skill, can be replicated," said Maruboshi. "Suiton: Suiryuudan no Jutsu (Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet Jutsu) requires a shinobi to weave a total of forty-four hand seals in quick unbroken succession to activate," Maruboshi sighed with a smile as a faraway look of nostalgia overtook his eyes and face. "But, did you know the Second Hokage only required a single seal to activate the same jutsu. He had become so proficient in the jutsu that he could mimic the exact function provided by a complex combination of forty-three hand seals."

He looked at Takuma, "In no way can everyone achieve that level. But if you work hard, you can eliminate a number of hand seals from long combinations. Even a sliver of saved time can turn the tide of a hard-fought battle. But all of this is in the far future for you; right now, you should focus on the basics like chakra control."

Takuma opened his mouth, but Maruboshi cut him off.

"Yes, we are still learning the academy three."

Takuma heaved a sigh of relief and nodded happily.

"But, I won't have you disregard chakra control training. The leaf concentration practice was only the starting point," Maruboshi raised the 1-ryo coin. "We will start over again with one coin and then move from there."

A cold shudder shook Takuma's leg as he felt a sick feeling climb up from his stomach. "I... I-I," he stuttered. For the first time, Takuma didn't feel excited at seeing new money.

The feeling was... pure dread.





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[Fiction]

"What do you feel? Describe it to me," Maruboshi asked as he walked around Takuma, who had a Dog hand seal formed with his hands.

Takuma had his face scrunched up in concentration as he felt the chakra flow through the chakra pathway system inside his body. "It's strange. This feels quite different from the leaf concentration practice. It... I-It feels out of my control."

"Would you really term it that way?"

Takuma lowered his hands and grumbled, "But the chakra moves on its own." His hands turned into claws as he pointed at himself, "It just feels off... I don't know. I guess I won't say it's out of control, but it still feels quite different from when I control chakra on my own."

As it turned, hand seals didn't automatically invoke jutsus by automating all chakra steps required to release the jutsu. He still had to give the command to meld the two energies to produce chakra on his own. It was after that the hand signs would direct the chakra through the complex chakra pathway network through a combination of eight gates in a particular manner, all the while the characteristic of chakra changed to suit the jutsu. During that entire process, Takuma had to concentrate on the chakra movement. Any break in internal focus would scrap the process, and the chakra would break down before disappearing... and ending up wasted.

"Can we learn jutsu now? I can do all twelve hand seals successfully now," Takuma asked, pleading— even though he still found forming some hand seals uncomfortable to create with his hands. The hand positioning was really strange with a few of them.

In the process of learning to release jutsu, Maruboshi had Takuma learn every one of the basic twelve hand seals. He had to familiarize himself with the chakra movement that happened with every hand seal until he could pull them off without failure every single time. He was nowhere ready to achieve a hundred percent success rate in a stressful environment like a tense combat situation, but in a calm and controlled environment, he could execute without fail. Something he had worked hard day-in and day-out to achieve— he was proud of the progress.

Maruboshi scratched his chin as he said, "Hmm, I think it would be better to practice every combination of two hand seals before we move on to jutsu..."

Takuma couldn't help when a look of reluctance appeared on his face. While he had practiced hand seals quite a bit, the time doing so had been boring. Executing singular hand seals did nothing; he wanted to do something— anything. Even the horrendous leaf concentration practice with the coins (aka coin concentration practice) resulted in the coin sticking to his body. Making hand seals did absolutely nothing.

"... But I suppose we can learn one of the academy three, but after that, you will practice every combination of two hand seals before moving to the next jutsu. If you agree, I will teach you one jutsu of your choice," Maruboshi finished.

"I agree!" Takuma jumped on the offer.

"As you wish. But, young Takuma, you must understand that properly executing hand seals is essential. Every time you fail at a hand seal, you waste the chakra in use. That can be treacherous in combat. You must've felt exhaustion after repeated failure in hand seals," said Marubsohi sternly.

"Yes, yes, I understand. I will practice all you want later," Takuma said hurriedly. He grinned, "Teach me a jutsu now."

Maruboshi sighed. "Which one do you want to learn?" he asked.

"Bunshin no Jutsu (Clone Jutsu)!" said Takuma.

Maruboshi looked surprised. "Clone? I was sure you would choose Henge no Jutsu (Transformation Jutsu)."

Takuma shrugged. He knew even though the academy three were near useless in real-life situations, and every shinobi was trained to figure out the illusory clones made from Clone Jutsu— and the Transformation Jutsu could still be used among civilians who couldn't recognize the signs of a chakra transformation. Despite knowing that, the prospect of making a copy of himself excited Takuma.

"The Clone Jutsu allows the shinobi to create an illusory clone that has no substance and thus is incapable of interacting with our physical world. That's why it is easy to spot clones," Maruboshi said. "In fact, even though it is classified as a ninjutsu, the jutsu is a hybrid between genjutsu and ninjutsu."

He raised his hand and weaved the hand seals. Ram — Snake — Tiger. Poof! Three clones identical to Maruboshi from every angle appeared next to him with a puff of smoke that dissipated almost instantly.

Takuma wasn't surprised as he had seen his classmates whip up clones almost on a daily basis, but he still admired the four Maruboshi in front of him. To him, they didn't look any different from Maruboshi— the only reason he could tell the real one was that the real Maruboshi hadn't moved from his spot.

"Pay attention closely," said Maruboshi, and the three clones started to walk around. "What do you see?"

Takuma narrowed at the clones' feet. "They don't crush the grass beneath their feet... Nor do they make any sound as they move," he said. But at the same time, Takuma thought that with simple skills, that problem was easy to fix.

"That's how you spot a clone," said Maruboshi, and with another puff of translucent smoke, the clones disappeared. "Now, weave the seals like I showed you. As you have yet to practice weaving seals one after another— for which I wanted you to practice the combination of two hand seals— you must know that between seals, the chakra will be slightly more challenging to control, but you must not let it run astray and guide it onwards. Now, try it."

Takuma formed the hand seals in succession. His movements were crude and clumsy because of the lack of practice, but the slow, careful movements did provide Takuma to direct his chakra slowly.

The hand seals directed the chakra through the chakra pathway system and the eight gates, but Takuma had to move the chakra himself. In a simple analogy, he had to provide pressure to push the water-like chakra through the pipes, which were the chakra pathway system— or that the hand seals were handling the steering wheel while he was in charge of pushing the gas pedal. He couldn't even describe how the hand seals changed the characteristics of chakra to suit the jutsu.

Takuma felt the chakra move in his body, and as he switched from the Ram to the Snake seal, the chakra suddenly rattled and lost all momentum, and in a few moments, it dissipated.

"Wha—"

"Try again," said Maruboshi.

Takuma grumbled and formed the seals again. Once again, the chakra acted erratically between the seals, and just like before, the chakra slipped out of his control.

"Ugh!"

"It's not easy; it will take time to get used to," Maruboshi said. "Try again."

Takuma didn't try again immediately. He closed his eyes and recalled the feeling of disruption. It wasn't as difficult as he thought it would be, Takuma thought. He contemplated the feeling for a few more movements before trying again.

Ram — Snake — Tiger!

Poof!

Maruboshi's eyes widened as a thick plume of opaque smoke appeared beside Takuma that, for a moment, hid him. Takuma wasn't alone when the smoke dissipated, and beside him stood a clone.

Takuma looked to his side in excitement, but the moment his sight fell on his clone, he felt someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on him. The clone was indeed... his— but in no way was it identical. The clone's features were off and looked more like a poorly made caricature, the height was a little taller, the colors were faded, and the figure seemed translucent.

"That's just... terrible," Takuma said heavily.

"No, not at all," Maruboshi said, his eyes still a little wide. "For a first attempt, this is quite good. Don't be disheartened and try again, young Takuma. Practice makes perfect, after all."

Takuma nodded and observed the sorry looking clone for a few moments before canceling it. He produced the chakra, weaved the seals, and directed the chakras to the best of his ability. Poof! A puff of smoke later, another clone stood beside him.

"Huh, this is nice, right?" Takuma said to Maruboshi while staring at his clone.

Maruboshi said nothing and had his eyes glued to the clone. The clone wasn't perfect— the coloring was still off, even though the height was now correct, the clone-Takuma was now a bit bulkier, and there were little things that made the clone not look correct.

"I can't tell what it is, but his face doesn't look right," Takuma said with thinned eyes. The clone looked like his twin, just not completely identical.

"Even though we can't pinpoint it, our mind and eyes can tell the discrepancies," muttered Maruboshi, still looking at the clone.

"Ah, so, like CGI."

"What is a seegeeai?"

"A-Ah, nothing. Let me try again," Takuma noticed his mistake. He hurriedly canceled his clone and tried again. After another puff of smoke, the third clone appeared into the world.

Maruboshi sucked in a sharp breath.

As the saying went— third time's a charm. The clone looked more like Takuma than Takuma himself. As Takuma faced his clone, it looked like there was a mirror in them as the clone mirrored the original's movement.

"He has no autonomy, but I can control him." Takuma raised his hand over his head, and the clone did the same. "That's quite neat, actually, don't you think?"

"E-Eh, ah yes," Maruboshi cleared his throat. "Clone Jutsu needs to be controlled. You can make the clone do a variety of things."

Takuma lowered his hand, but the clone didn't follow. Instead, clone-Takuma walked backward a few paces and raised both his hands before doing a perfect cartwheel. Takuma then made his clone do random things, everything from changing facial expressions to dance moves; the clone did everything like a puppet under Takuma's complete control.

"Hey, will this be enough to pass the Clone Jutsu portion of the test?" asked Takuma.

"...Yes, I believe this will—"

"Wait, what if they ask me to make multiple clones!" Takuma suddenly interjected. "I should try to do that as well."

Takuma formed the seals again, and this time, he confidently pushed his chakra through the hand seals' directives. Two puffs of smoke clouded near Takuma, and two brand-new clones stood on either side of Takuma. One clone dropped to the ground and began to do push ups, while the other clone started to put on a very poor mime performance.

Takuma pumped his clenched fist. "Okay, I think I'll be able to pass at least one portion of the examination," he said with a smile of relief. He felt great, the best he had felt in a very long time.

Even though he was making constant progress with his taijutsu, that progress didn't feel like much when he got bashed every day. His skill with weapons had also gone through day-and-night changes, and he could hit stationary targets now, but when he saw what his classmates could do with moving targets— some of them would even hit the bullseye on moving targets while in motion themselves— he didn't feel that great about himself.

But now, with the Clone Jutsu that looked as good as his classmates' execution, he truly felt that he was catching up to his classmates.

"Sensei, I know you said we learn the second jutsu after the combination practice, but can I learn another one, please?" Takuma asked Maruboshi with hope. He wanted to feel like he was now even more.

When Maruboshi didn't reply, Takuma looked at his teacher and found him looking at the clones.

"Sensei?"

"What?" Maruboshi suddenly looked at Takuma. His face was blank for a moment before he nodded, "Yes, yes, I suppose learning one more won't hurt. Which one would you like to learn next?"

"Henge no Jutsu," said Takuma with a smile.

It was time to give competition to a certain blue-skinned mutant.




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