Masami had never been a high-spirited person. Emotions, to her, were dangerous undercurrents, best left hidden in the silent depths. She had learned early on that silence was the most effective shield.
Because aside from lacking the art of awkward social interaction, she had also noticed that being quiet was remarkably beneficial. People wouldn't invite you to talk if you didn't look like you wanted to be talked to. They wouldn't try to dig deeper if you didn't give them an opening to start. And most importantly, if they didn't know what you were thinking or what you valued, they would never have the ammunition to hurt you.
So, she ignored it. She ignored the sounds of hissing and the occasional shouts of frustration from across the training ground, where Kiba was practicing his wind element with Tsukasa-sensei. She ignored the sharp humming and the strange vibration in the air from the other corner, where Yuji was trying to master his new Chakra Blade.
Their world was one of noise and movement. Hers, at this moment, was only the object in her hands.
Masami held her flute.
It was a beautiful and simple thing, made of silver bamboo, its surface smooth and cold to the touch. The same flute she had held for years, which had become an extension of her fingers and her breath. It was a gift from her mother on her eighth birthday. A gift given not for the purpose of battle, but for beauty.
Masami had played many notes and songs on it. Intricate melodies, mournful folk songs, gentle lullabies. She was quite good at it. 'Your voice is like the song of a morning bird, Masami-chan,' her mother would always say, her warm hand stroking Masami's hair after she finished playing.
Now, she was going to turn that birdsong into the shriek of a hunting hawk.
Exhaling softly, a small cloud of vapor in the cool morning air, Masami brought the flute to her mouth. She tried to concentrate, ignoring all the distractions around her. Tsukasa-sensei had given her a concept, a theory. Now, she had to turn that theory into reality.
By infusing chakra into the flute... the chakra would merge with the sound waves.
She tried to visualize it. Her breath was no longer just air. It was a vehicle. Her chakra was the passenger. She directed a thin, steady flow of chakra from her stomach, up through her chest, and out with her breath into the flute's blowhole. It had to be perfect. They had to blend seamlessly, becoming one. At the same time, she did the same with her hands. She coated the bamboo flute with a thin layer of her chakra, her slender fingers dancing over the tone holes, not just to create music, but to guide the energy flowing through it.
She chose her target: a straw dummy standing alone at the edge of the field.
She took a deep breath, a breath filled with chakra, and then she blew.
She blew using a high note, a pure and piercing tone. She directed all her intent, all her chakra, toward twelve o'clock where the straw man stood. The sound itself was loud enough to make one's ears ache if heard up close. But with the addition of chakra, something else happened.
The air in front of the flute seemed to vibrate, distorted like a heat haze over asphalt. The sound created an invisible shockwave, a concentrated sonic strike. The wave shot across the field and hit the straw man hard.
WHUMP!
The straw dummy was thrown backward as if it had just been struck by an invisible sledgehammer. It flew several feet before hitting the ground with a dull thud, its straw flying everywhere.
Masami lowered her flute, her breath slightly ragged. She stared at the sprawling straw dummy, then at the flute in her hand.
It worked.
As it turned out, controlling such a crude effect was easier than creating genjutsu. The shockwave effect was raw, not subtle. It only required a strong flow of chakra and a steady high note. It was a punch. Unlike genjutsu, which she had to perform gently, with varying melodies and complex layers of deception. This was a different tool. A hammer, not a knife. And sometimes, you just needed a hammer.
She raised her flute again, this time trying a different note, varying the amount of chakra she infused. She needed to understand its limits, to understand how every small change affected the result.
She had promised herself, on a quiet night in her room years ago. She would be a strong kunoichi. She would make her parents proud. She would make the Ichihara name, a clan unknown for its shinobi prowess, earn recognition.
It wasn't an easy path. She didn't have powerful jutsu or massive chakra reserves. All she had was her precise control, her sharp brain, and her refusal to fail.
So, she kept practicing.
While Kiba shouted in frustration and Yuji cursed softly in their respective corners, Masami simply blew her flute again. A sharp and deadly melody broke the morning silence, a promise of the strength to come.
…
In another corner of the training ground, Yuji tried to ignore Masami's piercing flute melody and Kiba's occasional shouts. He held the Chakra Blade given by Koji with both hands, the black metal hilt feeling cold and solid. He tried to flow his chakra constantly, feeling the energy move from his stomach, through his arms, and into the weapon.
He wasn't just flowing raw chakra. He was trying to do what Tsukasa-sensei had commanded: turn it into lightning. He imagined churning energy, dancing electricity, concentrated power. This was much harder than his calm and flowing water element. Lightning was wild, unstable.
But he had to be able to do it.
He had gotten what he wanted now, a way to become stronger. The mission in the Capital had been a wake-up call. The fight in the sewers had shown him that intelligence and trickery alone wouldn't always be enough. Sometimes, you just needed raw power to survive. With the Chunin Exams possibly approaching and the ever-looming dangers of this world, there was no time to rest.
Last night, while he was helping his mother in the kitchen, they had asked about what Yuji went through on his mission. Yuji had only summarized it, telling them about their client and the exhibition, about how big the Capital was. He didn't tell them about the ambush, the fight, the blood. They didn't need to worry. His job was to ensure they didn't have to worry.
Meanwhile, Naruto didn't seem to have returned from his mission with Team Seven. Yuji hadn't heard his loud voice for days. The silence felt strange. He had grown so accustomed to Naruto's constant, noisy presence, full of chaotic normalcy. If Naruto were here now, he might be laughing at Yuji's serious face or challenging him to a race. And Yuji, strangely, would have welcomed it.
He took a deep breath, refocusing. He could feel it. A small vibration in the hilt of the Chakra Blade. He looked down. Little by little, the black metal began to be filled with a crackling pale blue light. Then, at the tip, a flickering blade of lightning appeared, only a few inches long. It flared, crackling with unstable energy.
Good. This was progress.
Anyway, if they were indeed going to take the Chunin Exams later, Yuji had to have a plan. His main plan: avoid the one named the snake, Orochimaru. As much as possible. If he saw sand moving on its own or heard a strange hissing sound, he would turn and run in the opposite direction.
And if necessary... maybe he could expose the snake early. Prevent the destruction of Konoha. Prevent the death of the Third Hokage.
But how should he do it?
If he said something to the Hokage, "Excuse me, Hokage-sama, I know the leader of Otogakure is actually a disguised Orochimaru and he plans to destroy the village", he would be immediately suspected. They'd wonder where on earth he got such classified information. He would be interrogated by the Intelligence Division. And worse, he would get the direct attention of the Sannin himself. Becoming Orochimaru's personal target was not something on Yuji's bucket list.
Maybe he could leave an anonymous note? No, that was too cliché and easily ignored. Maybe he could...
BZZZZZZT!
The Chakra Blade in his hand suddenly vibrated violently. The flow of lightning became erratic, jumping around wildly. Before Yuji could react or stop his chakra flow, the unstable energy reached its peak.
BOOM!
The blade exploded in a burst of light and a deafening sound. The force of the explosion threw Yuji backward. He landed hard on the grass several feet away, his back hitting the ground. The hilt of the Chakra Blade itself soared high into the air before falling with a metallic clang a few meters from where he lay.
'Damn it,' he thought, his head buzzing. Thin smoke rose from his slightly singed hand. He had been too busy thinking about that damn Sannin problem that he completely forgot about his chakra control.
"Thinking too much can be dangerous, you know that, right?"
Yuji looked up. Tsukasa-sensei stood over him, an amused smile playing on his face. He picked up the Chakra Blade lying on the ground, then approached Yuji. Masami and Kiba had also stopped training for a moment, staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Sitting on the grass, with messy hair and a slightly burned hand, Yuji looked away. A bit embarrassed.
"It... was unavoidable, Sensei," Yuji whispered, more to himself.
Tsukasa crouched in front of him, his smile softening into something more understanding. He studied the Chakra Blade in his hand for a moment. "It's a good tool," he said. "But a good tool requires a focused user."
He looked at Yuji. "Let me show you for a moment," he said. "How to do it properly. May I?" He asked for permission, a gesture of respect Yuji hadn't expected.
Yuji met his teacher's eyes for a moment. There was a silence between them, where Tsukasa simply waited patiently. Finally, Yuji nodded.
"Actually, it's quite easy," Tsukasa said as they both stood up, taking it for a demonstration. "Your mistake was that you tried to force the lightning out. You tried to fight it. Don't."
He held the hilt casually. "Just flow your chakra calmly," he said, his voice becoming lower, more instructive. "Discard all the thoughts bothering you. Don't think about the exams, don't think about the problems at hand, don't think about anything. Just focus on the flow of energy within you."
Yuji watched closely as Tsukasa closed his eyes for a moment. "Then," he continued, "turn that chakra into an element. Don't fight it. Invite it. Let it dance."
The hilt in Tsukasa's hand began to crackle. The crackle of lightning! This time, there was no unstable vibration. Just the sound of pure, controlled electricity. A sharp and perfect blade of lightning shot out from the tip, glowing brightly under the sunlight.
Tsukasa then extended the lightning blade, making it slightly longer, then shortened it again with perfect control. "Look," he said. "This weapon is designed to help you. The channels inside make your chakra more controlled, more centered in one place without excessive effort. You just need to trust it."
The constant crackling of lightning filled Yuji's ears. He squinted slightly because of the bright light. Then, with a casual motion, Tsukasa slashed the lightning blade at a thick practice log nearby.
There was no loud sound of impact. Only a sharp zip and the pungent smell of ozone. The blade passed through the wood as if it were made of paper. The log was sliced in half perfectly clean. Tsukasa let the lightning on the blade shrink and disappear. There, on the surface of the cut wood, Yuji could see the edges were slightly scorched and blackened.
"Do you understand?" Tsukasa smiled, handing the Chakra Blade back to Yuji.
Yuji took it, the hilt still slightly warm. He understood. In theory.
Tsukasa then rubbed Yuji's hair in a surprising motion, ruffling it like his father used to do. "But don't rush," he said, his smile turning cheerful again. "We still have plenty of time to master it."
Yuji almost snorted. He looked at the Chakra Blade in his hand, then up at the cloudless blue sky.
'Plenty of time,' he thought bitterly. 'Orochimaru is coming soon, Sensei. And I'm not ready at all.'
...
AN: I... I'm back. I've been gone too long. Lol