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Chapter 2: The Path of Control
The faint chime of an alarm clock stirred Kirito from sleep. He groaned, rubbing the fatigue from his eyes before stretching like a cat. His body felt different now—sharper, steadier. Months of silent training had molded him, and he could feel it in the quiet hum of chakra that coursed through his veins.
A quick breakfast—milk, toast, and a fried egg—was enough to fuel him for the day. Locking the door behind him, he stepped into the streets of Konoha. The morning sun had just begun painting the sky in shades of gold, casting long shadows across the bustling village. Kirito's eyes flicked briefly to the Hokage Rock, the stone visages watching silently over the village.
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At the Academy
The gates of the academy were alive with chatter. Dozens of children gathered, some nervous, some brimming with excitement.
"Kirito, over here!"
The voice belonged to Kaito, a mop-haired boy already waving both arms like a flag. Beside him stood Hana, quiet and observant, her large eyes following every movement around them.
Kirito walked over, offering a small smile.
"Finally," Kaito grinned. "I thought you'd overslept."
"Not a chance," Kirito said. "You're too loud to ignore."
Kaito laughed, while Hana gave a faint smile but said nothing. The three of them chatted—summer breaks, rumors of which instructors were the strictest—until the sudden bark of orders silenced the courtyard.
The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, appeared. His presence alone commanded silence. He spoke of the Will of Fire, of sacrifice, loyalty, and the strength of the village. The children listened in awe, wide-eyed and reverent.
Kirito, however, only watched silently, his expression unreadable. What a skilled actor, he thought. If I want to survive here, I'll need to be just as convincing.
When the speech ended, students were divided into classes. Kirito exhaled in relief when he realized his group had no clan heirs or future protagonists—just civilians and orphans. Ordinary faces. Safe faces.
Classes began at once, though Kirito quickly found them unbearable. The lessons were shallow—basic chakra theory, the hand signs for Bunshin, the academy's rigid drills. Information he had already mastered in secret.
By the end of the day, he declined Kaito's offer to play. "Maybe tomorrow," he said. In truth, he had no interest. His real training was just beginning.
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Nights of Failure
That evening, in his apartment, Kirito sat cross-legged before a scroll—the Shadow Clone Jutsu. His father's notes whispered of its potential: a cheat code to accelerated growth.
"Alright… let's try this."
He wove the seals. "Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!"
Puff!
Smoke. Nothing more. A stabbing drain of chakra left him gasping.
Again. And again. Always the same. The frustration gnawed at him until, at last, he collapsed on his bed, panting.
Why can't I do it?
The cycle repeated for days—boring classes by day, failed Shadow Clone attempts by night. By the fifth evening, exhaustion left him on the floor, fists clenched.
"No… I'm doing this wrong."
He closed his eyes, focusing on his chakra network. He traced the flow, feeling its imbalance—too much here, too little there. Precision was his problem. He lacked control.
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The Weekend Training
The weekend arrived, and Kirito marched to the woods with a new resolve.
The first challenge: Tree Walking.
He pressed chakra to his soles and sprinted forward—only to slam face-first into the bark before tumbling back.
"Ow…" He rubbed his forehead, glaring at the tree. "Alright, round two."
Again and again, he tried. Each fall taught him something—the amount of chakra, the steadiness of its flow. By noon, sweat poured down his back, but he was no longer falling. He was running freely up and down the trunk.
"Yes!" He grinned, touching the highest branch before dropping gracefully. "One down."
After a quick lunch, he approached the pond. The next step: Water Walking.
He pressed chakra into his feet, stepped forward—and immediately plunged into the water with a loud splash.
Kaito would have laughed himself sick if he'd seen it.
Kirito dragged himself out, dripping. "Okay… harder than it looks."
He tried again. A step. Two steps. Then—splash. Each failure chilled his bones, but he pressed on. By dusk, he could take several steady steps before faltering. Not mastery, but progress.
Sitting on the bank, eating the last of his food, he stared at the ripples. "This is it… This is the way forward."
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Shadows and Secrets
Before heading home, he pulled in a sharp breath. "Henge no Jutsu."
Smoke swirled, and Kirito's body transformed into that of an older boy he'd seen in the streets. In this form, he walked calmly toward the village. At the corner of an alley, he formed another seal.
"Bunshin no Jutsu."
An illusory clone continued down the main road toward his apartment while Kirito slipped into the shadows, releasing the disguise only once he was out of sight.
Finally, he crept through a back entrance to his apartment, unseen.
Collapsing on his bed, drenched in exhaustion, he whispered, "If anyone finds out I'm training like this… it'll all be over."
Sleep claimed him instantly, dreamless and deep.
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