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Chapter 7 – Shadows at the Academy
Kirito awoke to silence. Morning light filtered weakly through the blinds, painting pale lines across his room. The sharp headache from the day before had faded, but the ghost of it lingered—an echo of the knowledge he had crammed into his mind, too much, too fast.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his temples. "Still there," he muttered. Not pain, exactly. More like a weight pressing behind his eyes, as if his brain was still digesting everything he had forced into it.
A long, hot shower chased away some of the heaviness. Steam clung to his skin, the hiss of water drowning out his thoughts. By the time he stepped out, towel draped over his shoulders, his mind felt clearer.
Breakfast was simple: rice and a fried egg. As he ate, he molded his fingers into a hand seal.
Poof!
A shadow clone appeared across the table, identical in every detail but with a faintly dazed expression. It blinked at the food and then at him.
"You're up," Kirito said, pointing at the clone with his chopsticks. "Academy duty."
The clone pulled a face. "Seriously? Sitting through Iruka-sensei's lectures again?"
"No sparring today. No physical tests. Just a theory class. Low risk."
The clone sighed dramatically. "Low risk for you, maybe. I have to deal with Mizuki's voice for hours."
Kirito smirked. "That's why you're going, not me."
The clone grumbled, grabbed his sandals, and shuffled toward the door. "You're lucky I'm you, or I'd quit this job." Then, with a sarcastic salute, it disappeared into the streets.
Kirito shook his head, amused. "Even my clones complain too much."
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An hour later, the forest embraced him with its familiar calm. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in broken patches, shadows stretching long and soft across the moss.
Kirito bit his thumb, slapped his hands together. Poof! Poof! Poof! Ten clones appeared in a semicircle around him, each one waiting for orders.
"You know your roles. Elemental training, weapon drills, rasengan infusions. Don't slack."
The clones dispersed instantly, flickering into the trees like echoes of the wind.
Finally, he formed another seal. This one was different. With a puff of smoke, a much smaller version of himself—barely a foot tall—wobbled on the ground, staring up with wide eyes.
Kirito crouched and handed the tiny clone a scroll. "You're on fūinjutsu. Just the basics. Don't overdo it."
The miniature Kirito gave a trembling thumbs-up, nearly losing his balance, then waddled away.
Kirito chuckled, then sat down cross-legged, alone at last. His clones could train jutsu, but he had something else in mind.
He closed his eyes, letting his breathing steady. He had learned countless jutsu now, refined his chakra control, even copied forbidden techniques from the library. But simply learning more wasn't enough anymore. He needed something greater—something beyond the shinobi path.
His mind drifted back to another world, another life. The novels he had devoured. The Beginning After the End… mana cores…
"Why not a chakra core?" he whispered.
He pulled out his notebook, flipping it open to a blank page. The pen scratched quickly as he wrote in English, a language no one here could read:
Concept: compress chakra into a single, dense core in the abdomen. Purpose: create a nexus. A battery. A self-purifying energy source. Risks: unknown.
The idea burned in his mind like fire. If it worked, it would change everything. His chakra would be denser, more powerful, endlessly refining itself. His jutsu would hit harder. His body would strengthen. His very existence would evolve.
But he didn't attempt it—not yet. It was too dangerous, too untested. Instead, he spent the rest of the day scribbling diagrams and notes, variables and dangers. Meditation followed, slow and steady, as he shaped the idea inside his mind.
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By dusk, the forest was alive with the rustle of leaves. A clone appeared from the undergrowth, carrying a freshly caught rabbit.
"Dinner," it said simply, handing it over.
"Good work." Kirito accepted it and quickly made a fire. The smell of roasting meat filled the clearing, warm and comforting. For once, it wasn't dried rations.
As the firelight flickered against the trees, Kirito ate in silence. His clones dispelled one by one, their memories flooding into him—pages of fuinjutsu basics, elemental drills, rasengan experiments. His mind expanded with each burst of feedback, until at last only he remained.
When the fire burned low, he stood and brushed ash from his hands. His gaze turned back toward the village, to the quiet silhouette of rooftops in the distance.
"The chakra core…" he murmured. "Knowledge isn't enough. I'll need to understand the human body, the chakra pathways, everything."
The answer was obvious.
Tomorrow, his path would lead to the hospital.
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