Lightning Release: Arc Net was a jutsu I was genuinely excited for. It had amazing potential and almost unlimited applications once mastered. The moment I read the description, it felt like love at first sight. I knew right then and there that it was going to be one of my main techniques. Looks like Hiruzen had some rare redeeming qualities after all.
The first part of the jutsu was learning how to form chakra threads. That was the tricky part. Even though my chakra control was exceptional for my age and it was part of my fuinjutsu training, I had not reached practical utilization of it yet, just the theory. Still, I was excited to test myself. Any improvement in control helped with… well, literally everything I did. Chakra is the root of every technique, after all.
As the scroll explained, which was a bit different from Master Shuzo's explanation, but not by much, chakra threads are ultra-thin streams of chakra extended from the body. They're usually projected from the fingertips, though some advanced users can form them from other points. The goal is to stretch your chakra outside your body while keeping it stable and under control, like holding a fishing line made of energy that twitches if your focus slips.
The challenge comes in two parts. First, forming the thread without it snapping. That takes precise output and a steady, even flow. Second, keeping the thread intact once it's extended. That means constant micro-adjustments with your chakra. No hand signs. No dramatic yelling. Just focus, patience, and a very annoying feedback loop of trial and error.
Training started with something simple. Standing still and forming a single thread from one finger to a training post two meters away. I had to hold the connection for five seconds without it flickering. Sounds easy. It wasn't. The first dozen tries ended in sparks, collapsed strands, or nothing at all. It was like trying to balance a droplet of water on the edge of a blade.
My training in Thunderclap Spear, especially the rail aspect where I coat my arms, helped here. I just had to reshape that coating into a more precise form. Eventually, I managed to keep a thread stable long enough to feel the pull from the post. It was faint, like the tension on a tight wire, but it was there. That was the first win. From there, the plan was to add more threads, stretch the distance, and eventually connect multiple points to simulate Arc Net's layout.
It was slow. Frustrating. But every time the thread held a little longer, every time the flow smoothed out just a bit more, it felt like real progress. And more importantly, it was progress I could feel in everything else I did. The process was slow, but it had a meticulous effect on my chakra control, honing it further, and with it, my ninjutsu as well.
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Time passed as we continued to be trained under Seiji sensei, who was very diligent and especially observant thanks to his dojutsu. Although it was annoying to get caught while slacking off, it still gave him an amazing advantage when it came to giving feedback on the students' jutsu application and chakra control. We focused a lot on those aspects, and also on mission training, which consumed more and more of our time. Eventually, the written subjects were pushed aside, much to Shizuru's dismay.
Still, the shift in focus made one thing very clear. An atmosphere of tension spread through the class. We were getting ready for real missions. We were about to become shinobi.
On a sunny day filled with bright sunlight and birdsong, we were told we would be sparring again. It wasn't unusual, we did that often. I was sitting on the training floor with my usual smirk, confident I'd win as I had many times before. Kaen, however, was staring at me intensely. That wasn't unusual either, but what was different was that he spoke. That didn't happen often.
"You seem like you're taking things very easy," he said. "Apparently my warning didn't resonate with you."
I screamed internally. I was working harder than ever. The only real free time I had left was in school, and this kid thought I was slacking. Worse, he took it as an insult to his previous declaration and challenge.
Seiji's voice came through clearly as he announced the next spar. "Kaen, you will go up against Genta. No ninjutsu allowed."
A devious smile bloomed with menace on Kaen's face as he stepped into the circle. "It appears I have a chance to encourage you to stop underestimating me and start taking things more seriously."
Genta had been talking to Sena and hadn't heard our exchange, but he heard Seiji sensei's voice and began walking toward the sparring circle.
"Genta," I said, voice grim. He looked at me, surprised by the tone. "Be careful. He's planning something."
He blinked, caught off guard, then gave a quick nod and stepped into the circle. His expression shifted. He dropped the smile, rolled his shoulders once, and settled into a solid stance.
The match began with no hand sign, no dramatic callout. Just motion.
Genta burst forward. No chakra, no flare. Just raw, disciplined power behind his steps. His foot slammed the ground, kicking up dust as he moved in. He was fast, maybe the strongest in our class physically. His fists came in hard and wide, aiming to break Kaen's stance and rhythm in the first few seconds.
Kaen didn't flinch. His eyes had changed. Red. Sharingan.
The first punch missed.
Kaen tilted his head just slightly, letting the heavy strike rush past. Genta didn't stop. He spun into a kick, driving it toward Kaen's ribs with crushing force, the kind that would have floored most of us if it landed.
But Kaen wasn't there.
He ducked beneath it, closed the gap, and jabbed a kunai toward Genta's shoulder. Not to stab, but to force him off-balance. The moment Genta twisted away, Kaen hooked a foot behind his ankle and swept.
Genta hit the ground hard but rolled, coming up quick. His jaw clenched. He stepped back in, fists up, and this time his strikes came sharper. Controlled. A high jab. A feint. A palm aimed at Kaen's sternum.
Kaen weaved around them like water. His Sharingan tracked everything. His footwork didn't waste a single step. Every time Genta missed, Kaen answered with a small punishment. A slice across the thigh. A tap with the flat of the blade to the ribs. Nothing lethal. Just enough to sting. Just enough to say he was faster, and that he saw everything.
Genta growled and fired a powerful jab at Kaen, who focused on evading it. He missed the small, fast kick fired from close range. Due to the limited space, it didn't pack much force, but it landed cleanly against Kaen's side with a dull thud, knocking him back two steps.
But Kaen didn't stumble. He smiled wider, then rushed back in.
This time, he didn't dodge everything. He let one of Genta's punches graze his arm, just enough to feel it, then drove his elbow into Genta's stomach. The Senju boy buckled, but before he could drop, Kaen struck again. He spun, sending a knee into Genta's ribs, then followed with a fist to the side of the head. He used that momentum to bring the kunai down hard on Genta's neck.
A thin line of red appeared across Genta's throat. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to make a dangerous statement.
The field went silent.
Kaen held the blade still for a moment longer. Small drops of blood slid along its edge. Then he slowly stepped back, eyes locked on his opponent like he was waiting to see if Genta would move.
He didn't. Genta stayed down, chest heaving, fists clenched in the dirt.
Seiji's voice rang out again. "Match over." Then he continued, tone tight with disapproval. "Kaen, be more careful. I was about to step in. We train to learn from each other, not to cause real harm."
Kaen gave a small nod, one that seemed like he understood the warning but didn't care much about it.
He turned and walked toward the edge of the circle without a word.
Just quiet steps and a pair of red eyes that never stopped watching me. Hungrily.