— Hey, Kotetsu, you're starting training this early already? — I heard Guy's cheerful voice behind me.
It had only been a day since I was discharged…
I stopped, holding the tanto in my hands, and exhaled:
— Yeah, — I said, slightly swinging the blade to check its balance and weight. The metal obediently gleamed in the morning sunlight.
As usual, Guy came too close, peeking almost over my shoulder, and glanced at the weapon with confusion:
— Why do you even need that sword? You'd be better off training Taijutsu!
— Yeah, but… — I lowered the blade, looking at the reflection of light on its edge. — In that battle, I realized I lack something bigger than kunai and shuriken. Taijutsu is fine, but if the opponent keeps distance or imposes their rhythm, just the body isn't enough. The tanto will give me extra leverage. I want to create a combo — a sequence of strikes where the hand and weapon are one.
Guy squinted, but a spark of interest flashed in his eyes:
— A combo, huh? Well, well… sounds bold. But you understand that weapons are a whole different world? It's not the same as fists or legs.
— Exactly, — I nodded. — I need someone to at least teach me the basics. Without that, I'll just be swinging metal, hitting a wall.
I thoughtfully ran my finger along the spine of the blade, feeling the cold steel.
— It's hard to find someone who truly masters it, — I continued. — In the village, of course, there are weapon masters and teachers, but real tanto masters aren't many. And finding a teacher on the front? That's tricky.
Guy crossed his arms over his chest, his face turning serious, and his voice lost its usual mocking lightness:
— Hmm… What's the point of training something now without a teacher? You'll just learn it wrong, and then you'll have to relearn. Better focus on Taijutsu.
I looked up, feeling his words break down some wall inside me. He was right: swinging a blade in emptiness without a mentor is like banging your head against a wall hoping for results. Better to improve what I already have.
— Surprisingly wise thought, — I said, putting the tanto back where I had taken it from.
The thought kept spinning in my head: "But I'll still need to find someone who masters the blade… and at least teaches the basics…"
Guy, as if reading my mind, slapped me on the shoulder:
— Let's start with a run!
— Yeah, yeah… I'll do something first, — I replied, forming a seal and channeling chakra into my legs. I felt my body grow heavier, as if a sack of sand had been tied to each leg. The weight increased by about five kilograms, and my muscles immediately resisted.
I took a few first steps — each felt sharp and heavy, as if I were running in water. But that was exactly what was needed.
"Sharp steps will help improve results faster… though balancing…"
A couple of hours later, I was lying on the ground, feeling my muscles ache from endless runs and training.
— Got an idea, — I exhaled, lifting myself slightly on my elbow.
A revelation hit me; scenes of the battle with Sasuke and Itachi flashed in my mind. Sasuke just touched his marks on his clothes — and the weapons instantly appeared in his hands!
"So why can't I do the same?" — I thought, recalling my torn pouch in the fight. The situation was disastrous: weapons scattered, everything needed in disarray. That's when it dawned on me: such a technique could perfectly solve the problem. And improve existing techniques…
I lifted my head and shouted to Guy:
— Hey, I've come up with something! I might be back soon!
He just nodded, not asking for details, doing push-ups, while I quickly ran into the tent. Not noticing Genmu, I rushed inside:
"He's sneaking back somewhere," — I thought, looking around.
My hands had already unpacked the tools for fuinjutsu. I realized that what I needed most now were ink and seals. Carefully taking them out, I removed my cloak and prepared for the experiment.
— Alright, let's start, — I muttered, taking the scroll and carefully drawing the patterns.
My idea was to transfer the same structure from a normal storage scroll onto clothing, creating the ability to summon weapons directly from myself.
I began carefully drawing the patterns on the clothing, holding the brush steadily as I would on a scroll.
At first, everything seemed to go according to plan, but with each new line, it became clear — the fabric behaved completely differently. Soft and flexible, it stretched and wrinkled, and the lines began to float, distorting with the slightest movement.
"It didn't do this on paper… the lines stayed where I put them," — I muttered, examining the crooked and bending lines.
The next problem was the ink. It absorbed into the fabric instantly, spreading and turning the neat pattern into a blurry stain.
"Right, paper is denser, holds its shape… But fabric! Need either special ink or treatment," — I thought, trying to hold the brush as steady and slowly as possible.
Then it was time to test the summoning. I focused, directed chakra, and tried to summon a small shuriken. It appeared, but not at all where I wanted: sometimes inside a fold, sometimes too high, sometimes too low. I adjusted chakra strength, gesture angle, almost shouting to myself: "Careful, careful!" But the result remained chaotic.
"This won't work in battle," — came the harsh conclusion.
Next, I started moving. Took a few steps, bent down, checked the grip — and the patterns on the sleeves and pants began to rub off, especially where the fabric contacted the body or other surfaces.
"Damn, the marks aren't durable enough… need to fix them," — I muttered, carefully adjusting lines with my finger.
And of course, time. Creating the full pattern on clothing took much longer than on a normal scroll. A whole hour for a below-average result…
I stood up, swinging my arms to loosen fatigue, and grabbed the brush again. This time, I decided to immediately apply the patterns to the chest part of the cloak — thought to try a larger scale right away, which should reduce mistakes. But the situation repeated.
On a larger surface, the ink spread faster: spots appeared on the fabric, lines merged with each other. I tried adjusting the thickness, adding more chakra to the brush, but the effect was temporary. After a few strokes, everything blurred again.
"Looks like I'll have to invent or find some kind of fixative for the fabric or ink…" — I sighed, putting the brush aside.
When I tried the first summon — the shuriken shot out of the pattern and nearly pierced my leg, and the second just disappeared into a fold, as if dissolved.
"Whoa, almost killed myself…" — I thought, wiping sweat from my forehead.
Each summoning attempt was unpredictable: sometimes the weapon appeared too early, sometimes too late, sometimes completely off to the side instead of the hand. I could feel fatigue and irritation building up.
Trying to combine shape control, summoning accuracy, and pattern durability at the same time ended in failure.
Durability increased slightly, but chakra consumption also did. Because of irregularities in the seal, it worked incorrectly and consumed dozens of times more chakra than usual…
"Maybe I need to work with a different material?" — I muttered.