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SGM - Chapter 5
🕑 Added 2025-01-28 08:14:43 +0000 UTCLand of Fire
Okinawa Forests
We pushed hard that first evening, heading due north from the village gates and quickly losing ourselves within the tall, ever present trees that made up the surrounding forests. Yaeko made for a silent yet relentless pacemaker, urging us forward through the branches with an unerring familiarity that hinted that she had a decent idea of where we were going, even without checking a map. We’d all read the mission briefing, of course, but neither halves of my soul were all too familiar with the Land of Fire’s geography.
In this matter, I was happy to follow my senior’s lead.
It was during the first several hours of our journey that I swiftly found out that Kozumo Aikawa did not possess the stamina and spryness of young, proactive shinobi still waist deep in their ‘Springtime of Youth’, as he so proudly declared. Not at all. Turns out the old bastard actually had horrible stamina, and his speed was nothing to write home about either. Our relentless pace was just bearable for me with my weights slowing me down and draining my stamina, but for the big guy, we had to stop every once and a while to allow him time to catch his breath and take swigs from his canteen.
Yaeko’s patience, however, was a finite source. After his fifth break, she made sure that we didn’t stop again until the moon was high in the sky and the mosquitoes were hankering for blood.
“We’ll break for camp here,” the former Chunin declared quietly as we landed in a grassy clearing, dusted over by crinkly brown leaves. The air was muggy and humid, the scent of sweat thick and cloying, and despite all of my previous confidence…
I was beat. An entire day of sprinting halfway across a country would do that to you, chakra or not.
But it was a panting and sweat-soaked Kozumo who collapsed on his hands and knees in the burrs, sobbing thick, fat crocodile tears of relief.
“Oh my- thank you Kami, for you have saved me from this cruel she-demon!” He cried, arching his rotund ass up in the air and smashing his forehead against the ground. It was an impressively submissive kow-tow, and an amusing scene, but my shins were aching way too much for me to entertain the out of shape Corpsman.
Instead, I sighed, palmed my Camping Supplies scroll, and turned to find a decently out of the way spot for my tent-
Only to nearly walk straight into my team leader’s significantly smaller body.
I paused.
Her dark eyes narrowed up into my own.
“Show me,” she stated.
The command was simple, quiet, and aggressively straight to the point. It took all of two seconds for the several parts of my independently-operating brain to figure out just what she was referring to, and I sighed. While I would’ve been well within my rights to simply ignore the ‘order’, since we were both effectively the same rank, there was no need to ruffle feathers on the first day out of the village.
That sounded like a simple way to be left dead and rotting in a ditch somewhere. I’d heard similar stories from other Corpsmen.
Squatting, I swiftly unraveled the bandages around my shins and ankles, revealing the thin, tan-colored weights attached to my legs. “These, Yaeko-san?”
Her eyes narrowed in curiosity. Dropping down into her own squat, Yaeko leaned in close to my legs, tilting her head to the side and examining the weights through strands of raven black hair. “How heavy are they?”
“Eighty pounds on both legs,” I replied coolly.
“… Nice.”
She made some sort of vague, noncommittal sound in the back of her throat, though I swear I saw a fleeting spark of approval somewhere lurking in the depths of her void-like gaze before she looked away, into the trees, and the moment was gone. My progress was very slow-going, but I thought I was getting a better understanding of how this woman operated. Namely, the apathy and coldness she displayed to the world.
Yaeko wasn’t some ice queen diva. At least, not completely.
She was just awkward.
When looked at through those optics, the standoffish behavior was significantly more bearable.
“…”
She was still looking away. I knew for a fact that there was nothing in those bushes, too.
Fine.
Resisting the urge to smirk at the overwhelming awkwardness suffusing the atmosphere right now, only slightly broken by the sound of Kozumo busily rummaging through his belongings in the background, I stood to my full height and nodded politely at the still squatting woman. “If that’s all, I’m going to start setting camp. If you need me, just-“
GRRRRRRR!
Chills trailed down my spine.
I had eight shuriken clenched between each of my knuckles before my mind could even register that earth-shattering growl, chakra springing to life within my limbs and bringing with it an immediate, all-consuming focus. I twisted on my heel, dipped down just enough to gather strength in my sore, aching calves, and leaped back what felt like a good thirty feet to spread our numbers out some. By the sound of the beast, it could’ve been anything from a man-eating bear to a seven foot tall boar, but I was not willing to take any chances.
We were here to kill bandits and patrol the border, not die, pitiful and hopeless, to the damned wildlife.
“Kozumo, Yaeko-san,” I called out, my voice sharp and crisp over the quiet clearing.
I narrowed my eyes.
Why weren’t they moving?
And why was Kozumo grinning?
“What are you doing? Did you not hear that beast?“
…
SNORT.
“GAHAHAHAHA!” Kozumo collapsed into his disorganized mess of a tent, his considerable body shaking and quivering with mirth as he guffawed loud enough to echo against the treetops. He was wheezing, watery eyes wide and teary. One large, sausage-like finger slowly raised to point at a silent Yaeko. “Hear that, captain?! A fuckin’ ‘beast’! HAHA- ACK!”
A fist-sized rock fell limply on the ground a few feet away from Kozumo.
Still squatting, still looking away, but now with one arm wrapped around her slim stomach and the other extended towards a writhing, black-eyed Kozumo, Yaeko slowly turned her head towards me, her dark hair shadowing her face like some horror movie monster. It was only when I saw the quivering scowl on her tiny lips, the pink flush consuming her cheeks, and the mortified, angry widening of her eyes, did I realize what was going on.
… Oh.
“You’re hungry,” I breathed, uncharacteristically disappointed that I would not be fighting a giant boat looking to gore my insides. “That is understandable. We’ve been traveling for several hours, and it’s becoming dark. Would you like me to make us all dinner?”
Some of the Killing Intent that had been starting to make its way into the atmosphere abruptly halted. The urge to kill was surprisingly strong for such a small woman. Even though it didn’t affect me, I felt a bead of sweat trail down the side of my face.
“… Make what?” Yaeko frowned, so much intense seriousness behind her dark stare that I felt my lips inadvertently quirk up.
I smoothly holstered my shuriken, replacing the lethal tools with two small, tightly bound scrolls neatly labeled with the kanji for ‘Camping’ and ‘Cooking’. At this point Kozumo had stopped rolling around on the ground, clearly tuckered out by the day’s events, and he watched from atop his own sleeping mat. Two strokes along the Kanji, a slight push of chakra through my fingertips, and-
POOF.
A bundled up tent canvas, four metal stakes, and a drab, olive green sleeping bag fell in a neat, orderly row on the grassy forest floor, while a small, squat wooden table - balancing a bevy of spices and plastic-wrapped bowls - landed on my palm. I caught it with a grunt, carefully lowering both the table and my body down to the ground in order to place all four of its legs firmly in the dirt. I’d spent too much money on adding to my spice cabinet to waste it all due to clumsiness, and no amount of hunting would find me cuts of chicken this succulent and juicy anywhere in this forest.
I’d pre-brined and marinated the meat, after all.
“Katsudon,” I finally answered her question, glancing up from my ingredients. My forehead nearly crashed against Yaeko’s as I did, and I instinctively flinched back to avoid the collision. “Oi, Yaeko-san. Personal space.”
It didn’t even look like she heard me, the way she was staring down at the bowl holding my sliced cutlets. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume the woman was some sort of stray cat.
“You’re going to make katsudon… in a forest?”
“You don’t sound very confident,” I idly noted, splitting the plastic on the bowl of crushed bread, flour, and oil. It was harder to manage all of the ingredients at once, but with Multitasking supplementing my natural dexterity, it didn’t take me longer than a few seconds to start coating the chicken cutlets with my left hand while my right prepped the eggs.
All the while, I was watched by dark, curious eyes.
“Haven’t met many shinobi who can cook,” she murmured, her soft voice cautious. “Especially not Genin.”
“Well I’m not your average Genin. I’m a Corpsman. We’re the ‘worse of the worse’.” A small, wry smile pulled at my lips, and I ducked my head down to grab my flint and steel. “I can’t pass a Jonin’s test, but I can make a mean omurice.”
She snorted.
“You won’t cook anything without fire. Here.”
Before I could say anything, the smaller woman shuffled closer, one hand drawing back to slide effortlessly through a few seals. My eyes widened, a shiver of something rushing down my spine and sending goose flesh rippling over the skin of my arms. Somehow, someway, I felt a sort of… connection establish, right then and there, between the two of us. Or, not between me and Yaeko, but between me and the jutsu.
Time seemed to slow down. My eyes narrowed at her hands, and in the back of my mind, a cog wheel began grinding away rust. The muscles of my left hand twitched.
“Yaeko-san,” I breathed, stopping her just as she’d brought her fingers to her soft, slim lips. “Can you do that again?”
Her expression shifted. Weariness furrowed her brow. “… Do what?”
“The hand seals,” I said, leaning closer. My eyes had never left her hands. “Do them again, at the exact same speed. Three more times, if you don’t mind.”
She didn’t say anything, but the bemusement on her face spoke volumes. Rather than verbally respond, Yaeko brought her hands up closer to her chest, tilted her head, and flashed through those same few hand seals at a lazy yet swift speed, each subtle moving bleeding seamlessly into the next one - so much so that her fingers hardly even seemed to move before the next one was performed. My eyes were bright and wide as I watched closely.
The second time she did it, I noticed her own gaze had lowered. At my side, my hands matched each of her seals perfectly. I didn’t even know what they were called yet, or what they did, but my brain sealed the movements inside of my head like a bear trap. “Once more, but this time, perform the jutsu.”
“… Pushy.”
But she didn’t refuse.
We ran through it again, except this time, my eyes weren’t on her hands anymore - I’d already memorized each strange hand seal. This time, I watched the movement of her body; her chest, with its minuscule swell, her neck, and her lips. When she finished the few hand seals, Yaeko curled her thumb and index finger into a circle, brought it up to her lips, and murmured, nearly too quiet for me to hear, “Katon: Seika no Jutsu.”
From her lips, as silent as the whisper she used to summon it, a soft blue stream of fire spilled forth in a small fan, subsuming the gathered sticks and quickly setting them ablaze. The dried leaves and kindling crackled and popped as they burned, but the sound seemed muted. Quieter than I’d expected.
It took me a moment to realize that I’d stopped prepping the food. That was… odd; ever since I’d gained my new abilities, Multitasking made it so that I could handle several tasks at once, no matter how strenuous. At its worst, I could juggle three arduous activities. But watching her perform this jutsu, studying the way she inhaled, the rise and fall of her chest, the hand seals… it felt different.
But I was still missing a crucial part.
In the Academy, precious little time was spent focused on the intricacies of advanced chakra control. Truthfully, it would be more accurate to say that nearly no time was spent on it, considering how the bulk of my academic education was based around what my teachers called the ‘foundation of being a shinobi’.
Contrary to the world shown in James Beckham’s memories, I didn’t start the Academy at the age of six, though I’d heard that previous generations had a younger start due to extenuating circumstances. I, and the other orphans around my age, were enrolled a few months after I turned eight years old. ‘Possess the Will of Fire, and be prepared to help preserve peace and prosperity throughout the Land of Fire’ - the one and only requirement for admission, pitched to us by Lord Sandaime. It was the entry point into six years of grueling physical conditioning, mind-numbing academic study sessions, and the bare minimum of actual chakra theory.
I was lucky we’d even been taught Tree-Walking here.
In other words, for all my talent… I had no clue how to actually start with Nature Transformation. There was no clan to teach me where the Academy lacked, and while Knowledge is Power made independent study a cinch, it truly shone when I had more of a helping hand.
“Hn…” Without consciously thinking about it, I began to continue prepping the food with my left hand as my right ran through the seals once again. A cluster of coal joined the kindling and sticks, pushing in the heat and focusing it up into a concentrated flame, and I began on the eggs while the oil heated up in its pan.
Yaeko slowly sat down on the opposite side of the small campfire, as quiet as the blue flames she’d breathed, and my gaze flicked up at the comparatively loud footsteps of our third teammate. However, instead of him focusing on the cooking food and the tantalizing scent of scrambled eggs like a man of his stature would normally do, he was staring at me with an odd expression on his bruised face.
Eyebrows quirked up into his receding hairline, the portly man jammed a thumb towards me whilst glancing down at Yaeko. “What’s up with the new blood? He learn that from you?”
She shrugged. “He has a good memory. Weird, but not impossible.”
“Ahhhh,” Kozumo popped a squat with a groan, bones creaking with the effort. Rolling his neck, my fellow Corpsman side-eyed me with a small, uncomfortable grin. “Right. Memorizing hand seals are weird, sure, but what about that freaky dead stare he’s got going on right now? How’s he focused on cooking and practicing that at the same time? Think he’s some kinda nutcase like you-”
Another pebble flick from the diminutive woman, and he’d fallen flat on his ass, rubbing his forehead with a scowl.
“Shut it, old man. You’re taking first watch.”
Kozumo shoved himself back up on his elbows, teary-eyed and pouting. “What?! I always get first shift when we’re out in the fucking sticks! And no one ever shows up! Make the rookie do it - hazing ritual and all that. We, or, well, I had to go through it when I first started.”
“He’s making the food,” Yaeko denied instantly, raising both arms in an ‘X’ shape. Her already emotionless voice turned ice cold. “That means his life is worth more than yours.”
“GAHHH. My heart…”
What a fool.
An amused snort escaped my lips.
“Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here. I can hear you - I’m just focused. I can multitask pretty well. And besides, I don’t mind taking the first shift, but it’s dark, and we have a fire going. For now, you should be on watch while we finish up here.”
Yaeko eyed me appreciatively for a moment before slightly nodding her head in agreement. “What he said.”
“Ughhh. One look at a pretty face…”
But Kozumo didn’t actually appear too upset by the task as he stood to leap into the surrounding trees. If anything, he seemed more at ease than before, despite the disgruntled scowl on his whiskered face. Perhaps it was one of my charisma or presence perks that was increasing my insight with other humans, but I felt as if my understanding of facial cues and behavioral patterns had increased.
Either that, or Gut Instinct was working overtime.
‘Whatever. Less belly gazing, more grinding.’
Flicking my wrist, I flipped the eggs and threw in a dash of salt and pepper before scrambling them again. They didn’t take long to cook at all, and I preferred mine fluffy and a bit on the saltier side. Or, at least, my powers told me that that was the preferred way to cook them for this particular dish. It wouldn’t take much longer until I needed to submerge the cutlets in the oil, although the fire was beginning to flicker and die down a little.
Yaeko noticed too, sitting up and raising her hands, but I quickly blocked the sight of the fire to stop her.
This was a good opportunity.
“Yaeko-san,” I said carefully, well-aware of just how much this sudden move could potentially backfire, “As both your chef and pitifully unprepared junior comrade, I’m afraid I must hold your food hostage. For now.”
Something dangerous passed over her placid features, and she narrowed her dark, half-lidded eyes. “What are you doing?”
That was good. She wasn’t genuinely upset - just confused, hungry, a little annoyed, and horrible at displaying all of it efficiently. I’d managed to read her accurately before.
I could use this to my advantage.
“Chakra training in exchange for food. You agree to run me through my paces and fill in the massive blanks the Academy left me with, more specifically in regards to Nature Transformation, and I feed you. A win-win, considering we’ll be comrades-in-arms.” I smiled, actively leaning into the charisma and bishonen-like looks my predecessor ‘blessed’ me with. My teeth gleamed, my eyes twinkled, and in that moment, the leaves rustled softly in the trees as a slow breeze flitted through and ruffled long, silky locks of silvery white hair. It could have been a Genjutsu, how everything seemed to come together to accentuate that one smile.
And judging by that barest tint of pink on her pale cheeks, and the disgruntled furrowing of her brow… Charm was Super-Effective!
…
My smile twitched.
‘Kami above, please don’t let me channel James ever again.’
“I’m not a teacher,” Yaeko finally spoke, her voice a touch quieter than it had been minutes before. She brought her knees up to her chest again, wrapping her arms around the slim legs and resting her chin on top. Her gaze never shifted from my face, though the frown in her brow relaxed. “I’m not… good at explaining things.”
“That’s okay,” I responded coolly, glancing away for a moment to plate the eggs. The cutlets sizzled as I dropped them into the hot oil, and I made sure they were cooking properly before returning my eyes to my soon-to-be-teacher. “I can fill in the blanks. You can just answer my questions as succinctly as you can. Won’t take much time out of our night, either.”
She shook her head; just like her nods, the movement was minimal. Almost unnoticeable. “Doesn’t matter. You can’t learn the fundamentals of Nature Transformation in one night. No one can, except monsters like Kakashi of the Sharingan, or the Uchiha heiress. It’s improbable.”
The matter-of-fact tone rankled me, and incited a low, smoldering flame in my chest. The acknowledgement of my growing pride and competitiveness was bittersweet; on one hand, I cherished my newfound self-respect. On the other, such things were dangerous.
But here and now, I think it was fine.
I narrowed my eyes at Yaeko.
“Then let’s bet on it.”
She blinked. “... What?”
My smile widened into a sharp grin. “A bet. If I manage to get down the start of Nature Transformation in the next hour, and perform that fire jutsu of yours successfully… You’ll officially be my pseudo-sensei for the rest of this trip. No matter how stupid the question I ask, you answer it dutifully. You spar with me when we have free time, and you freely teach me anything I ask - within reason. If I lose, I am yours to command for the rest of this mission. Cooking, cleaning, emergency foot massages-”
“You’re overreaching,” Yaeko immediately declined. “And I haven’t even tasted your food yet. No.”
Number one rule with negotiation; always start too high. That way, anything below that would be gravy.
“You were aiming for Special Jonin, before you were demoted to the Genin Corps. What is your end goal, Yaeko-san? Standard Jonin? One of the Elites? You mentioned the likes of Kakashi Hatake, who recently took on three students of his own. My classmates.”
Her lips parted as if she was going to say something, but then they pursed. She shook her head again. “I’m not your sensei.”
“You aren’t,” I acknowledged, “My sensei tried to kick me back to the Academy.”
“But you want me to act as one for you. Same thing.”
I paused, allowing the weight of her words to settle between us before pushing again, knowing that her subtle resistance meant something - something I could work with.
"Alright," I began, voice smooth, "So let’s rescind the ‘pseudo-sensei’ title. You’re still the one who knows more than I do right now. If you’re aiming for higher ranks in our shinobi force, don’t you think you should be practicing your teaching skills? I’m not sure what happened that brought you down here with the likes of me and Kozumo, but being known as both mission-effective and a nurturer of the ‘will of fire’ in your own right would do nothing but good things for your future."
She shifted slightly, pressing her chin down hard against her arms - a subtle movement that immediately caught my attention.
She was considering it.
The hesitation in her eyes, that tiny crack in her usual cold mask as she bit the slim softness of her bottom lip; it all told me that the wheels were turning. She didn’t necessarily want to for whatever heavy reason, but she could see the merit of it. She could teach me, and I’d help her in return with whatever she desired - food, a chance to show what she could do beyond her past mistakes, and maybe, just maybe, some recognition for it all.
“Teaching- no, responsibility… It's annoying. And dangerous,” she muttered, voice dropping a few notes in her usual tone of cold indifference, but I was able to catch the undercurrent. It was a mix of discomfort, frustration, and maybe a little bit of longing - certainly a chaotic mix.
She didn’t mind my persistence.
It was obvious she was used to people not pushing her like this, probably because they feared her detached demeanor. Even Kozumo, for all of his complaining and bellyaching, refused to interact with her for more than a few minutes at a time.
But beyond all of that, she seemed lonely.
"That's okay," I said with a nonchalant shrug, flipping the cutlets over in the shallow pot of piping hot oil. "I’m not asking for a perfect teacher, Yaeko-san. Nor am I asking for a life coach. I just need someone generous enough to take a chance, because the powers that be left me flailing, barely able to keep my head above the water. I need you, for only this one week, and then I can handle the rest. I promise."
For a moment, only the sound of crickets, the sizzling of my golden-crusted cutlets, and the evening breeze interrupted the silence of the clearing. Yaeko’s eyes were closed, her body compressed so tightly into a sitting ball that she looked more like a blob of darkness than an actual girl. I could’ve potentially pressed my luck here, but something in my gut was telling me to apply the brakes a bit and give her time to simmer.
Could it be the Chad Grindset, subconsciously influencing my decision making? Was this ‘negotiation’ considered a challenge to be conquered? Or perhaps it was portions of my Aggression, guiding me towards holding back and resting on my haunches in preparation for a better chance to strike.
Whatever it was, it gave me time to finish up the food. The fire hadn’t died down enough to ruin dinner; during my inner monologue, a portion of my brain had set my body to plating three bowls of katsudon. White rice, fluffy eggs, and panko-breaded chicken cutlets seasoned and cooked to perfection. I wasn’t necessarily a foodie, but pride filled my chest whenever I looked upon my culinary creations. You could almost see sparkles flying over the bowls.
I was just cutting some spring onion over the food when I felt a presence looming. I stiffened as goosebumps raised along my flesh, turning only to peer into dark, wide orbs.
Yaeko's little button nose sniffed once. Twice.
“… Sixty minutes,” she whispered, holding her hands out expectantly. I pretended not to notice the excited shaking. “You have sixty minutes. But if you fail, you have to cook me whatever I want for the rest of the mission. Deal?”
It was difficult to hide my satisfaction, but I just managed it. “Deal.”
“It’s only because I’m hungry.”
Was she pouting?
I hid my smirk behind a ‘solemn’ bow of my head, gently setting a hot bowl of masterfully cooked katsudon in her outstretched hands. “Of course. Your benevolence is truly unmatched, Yaeko-sensei.”
“You’re pushing it.”
That smelled like a lie.
“I’m sorry, Yaeko-san.”
That was also a lie.
We were a pair of liars, but wasn’t that one of the core aspects of being ninja? Deceit or not, the tense atmosphere that had been pressing on us since this entire exchange started slowly began to peel back, replaced by a gentle silence that felt almost… comfortable. We ate without speaking, and not even a minute passed before Kozumo hopped from the trees to join us, grumbling all the while.
The second the golden cutlets touched his taste buds, he became as silent as a mouse, focused entirely on consuming his fare. I pretended not to notice the way the both of them kept glancing up at me as they gorged themselves, seemingly in shock that I was the one who prepared the food.
I took it as a compliment instead of an insult. The katsudon was extremely delicious and filling. More than it should’ve been, honestly.
But we were shinobi on a mission, and as good as the food was, we couldn’t savor it forever. We finished up in five minutes flat. Kozumo returned to guard duty, I cleaned up the cooking appliances, and Yaeko - in a sudden bout of generosity - set up the tents in a crude semi-circle close to the trees.
By the time we were ready to train, I only had forty-five minutes left to accomplish my side of the wager.
Truthfully, I’d already decided to garner an understanding in thirty.
“First thing’s first,” Yaeko said quietly as she sat on a tree-stump in front of my kneeling form, chin resting lazily on her fist, “The Tiger seal I used for Katon: Seika no Jutsu… Show me. And, um, feel for the chakra. In your lungs.”
So verbose.
I blinked, glancing down at my left hand. I flowed through each hand seal effortlessly, as if I’d been performing them for years. The muscle memory had already been ingrained in my body, but…
“I’m unfamiliar with one-handed seals. It wasn’t something taught in the Academy.” I tilted my head bemusedly, bringing up my hand and wiggling my extended index fingers. Something about this one felt right. “Is this it?”
My temporary teacher stared at me like I’d gone and grown a second head. “… Yes. But do the full Tiger seal. One-handed seals aren’t common for a reason. Even I can barely do it. Earlier, I just wanted-…”
She abruptly cut herself off. Heat coalesced on her cheeks.
It made me want to squeeze her until she popped. Cute aggression seemed to do that to me.
More importantly, a part of my soul - the prideful part that still felt somewhat foreign - wanted to rage against the idea of not taking the hard path forward. One-handed seals were a rarity in this world, with my past memories only remembering it being performed by the likes of missing-nin Haku and Zabuza Momochi, but I stamped down on the unnecessary ego with an iron-like will.
I could practice that on my own time. For now, being humble was to my advantage.
Smoothly, I pressed my palms together, pulled my fingers into the normal Tiger seal, and, as Yaeko bade… Felt for the chakra located in the pathways flowing through my chest. My lungs felt warm as I focused on that area with my ‘inner eye’, a tickle scratching my throat that hadn’t been there moments before. It didn’t seem to get any hotter or stronger the longer I held the seal, so I kept my hands clasped, allowing my mind to delve into the new sensation.
In another partition of my consciousness, my thoughts began to rapidly race.
“Yaeko-san,” I spoke up calmly, locking eyes with the surprised looking girl, “Walk me through the other hand seals again, please. And continue with your explanation. I feel the spark, but considering it was the final seal in the chain, I assume the gathering and molding of the chakra is handled before this step.”
She licked her lips. “You should focus on this feeling for now. If you split your attention-“
I smiled wryly. “Like I said, I’m good at multitasking. Don’t worry.”
“… Fine.” A challenging glint entered Yaeko’s eyes, and she straightened her slouching posture out on the dead stump. “It’s your loss. Try to keep up.”
Her hands almost seemed to blur together, but I was watching closely.
Snake.
Ram.
Horse.
Tiger.
In a way, Nature Transformation, despite requiring an advanced level of chakra control, wasn’t entirely different from the basics - which was a given, considering how learning worked, but I was somewhat surprised at how it all linked together once you had all the pieces. Like the coding of programs, from my previous life. Or maybe this intrinsic understanding was just my powers at work, and the half-impressed, half-disturbed look on Yaeko’s normally expressionless face wasn’t grossly exaggerated.
I was confident I could figure this technique out in the next half an hour.
After all, everything that I’ve tried so far has, at the end of the day, felt so… natural.
‘Maybe this is how the likes of Kakashi Hatake and Itachi Uchiha felt?’
Perhaps we would compare notes one day.
But, for now…
I grinded.
Comments
Wasted Ink
That is an inconsistency, thank you. I’d thought that the Tree Walking hadn’t been taught to him in this fic but I was wrong. I’ll fix that now!
LysanderArgent
I feel there is an inconsistency here. "The fact that I’d only learned about the Tree-Walking exercise from the memories of another life was a good example of how lacking the Konoha Academy’s curriculum was." Doesn't match with "Fortunately, unlike the alternate timeline I remembered from my previous life, Tree Walking was a skill taught to us in the Academy, only one of the differences between my world and the other one." from Chapter 1.
thevolunteer
Can only dream this gets updated more regularly
