Chapter 5: The First Lesson
"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that, Nohara Rin-san?" Takumi countered, carefully placing his textbooks and notes into his canvas bag before slinging it over his shoulder. He walked to the doorway, his gaze scanning the schoolyard outside. He could just make out Kakashi's retreating form, already a good distance away. Near the main gate, Obito lingered conspicuously, clearly waiting for someone.
"Well, we did agree that I would teach you some ninjutsu," Rin said, a gentle but firm smile on her face.
"Ah, that's right," Takumi nodded, his expression neutral.
He didn't overanalyze her motives. Perhaps she was staying out of a simple sense of duty, or maybe Kakashi had left early for his own high-level training. The intricate, unspoken dynamic between Rin, Obito, and Kakashi was a drama he had no interest in joining. He had observed the small signs—the specially prepared medical kit she gave Kakashi, the personal, hand-sewn charm tucked inside. Her affection for the prodigy was clear, as was Obito's hopeless devotion to her, creating a tangled web of youthful emotion.
"Shall we go, then?"
"Okay."
Rin fell into step beside him as they exited the building. Kakashi had already vanished, swallowed by the late-afternoon foot traffic of the village.
"Hey, Rin! Are you really going to teach him?" Obito piped up, jogging to catch up to them, his expression a mix of suspicion and petulance. The idea of Rin spending alone time with this outsider was unbearable. That was his coveted spot!
"Takumi-kun came to Konoha all by himself, Obito. We should help our classmates," Rin replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"Fine," Obito grumbled, seeing her resolve. He stubbornly attached himself to their small group, trailing them all the way to one of Konoha's many public training grounds.
The village boasted over fifty such designated areas, each with unique terrain and obstacles, serving as spaces for shinobi to hone their skills and for official examinations, like the Chunin Exams, to be held. While they were still Academy students, they were permitted to use these facilities. The moment their names were entered into the Ninja School's roster, they were recognized as shinobi-in-training. The graduation exam itself was a low bar; with enough attempts, even mastering the most basic of the Three Academy Jutsu was enough to earn a forehead protector and the title of Genin.
Training Ground 3 was relatively secluded, dotted with tall, ancient trees whose interlocking canopies created a dappled ceiling of light and shadow.
"This looks like a good spot. Not too crowded," Rin observed, looking around. She cleared her throat softly, adopting a more instructor-like demeanor. "Obito, you should pay attention too. You won't pass the graduation exam if you keep failing the practicals."
"Hey, I know, I know, Rin," Obito said, scratching the back of his head with an embarrassed grin.
His proficiency with the fundamental techniques was, to put it kindly, inconsistent, earning him his reputation as the class's "dead-last." But a flicker of competitive pride ignited in his chest.
"But I'm definitely better than him," Obito declared, pointing a thumb at Takumi.
He was filled with a sudden confidence. However poorly he performed, he was still a Konoha-born shinobi who had received years of formal, systematic education. How could this self-taught stray from Lightning, who probably only knew the crudest form of chakra extraction, possibly compare? He'd heard the whispers from his grandmother and others in the clan. Everyone was watching Uchiha Takumi. The collective memory of the Land of Lightning was not a positive one. The Second Hokage had fallen to Kumo-nin, and the last war had ended only a few years ago—not nearly enough time to heal the wounds. Obito's own parents had died on that battlefield, a story echoed in countless Uchiha households.
Being a shinobi was never a noble calling; it was a dance on the knife's edge, where any day could be your last. You were a weapon, a tool for hire, and the ghosts of past conflicts were constant companions.
"Obito," Rin chided, a slight frown of disapproval on her face. It wasn't kind to speak to a classmate like that.
"It's fine," Takumi interjected, his voice calm and devoid of irritation. "Please, Nohara Rin-san, begin your explanation." He dismissed Obito's comment entirely. He had no idea if the boy was already a pawn on Uchiha Madara's grand, twisted board, and he had no intention of finding out. His only goal was to stay under the radar and buy himself the precious time he needed to grow stronger. Simply bearing the Uchiha name in Konoha came with its own inherent sin. The specter of Itachi's future massacre and Danzo's insatiable greed for the Sharingan were problems he would inevitably have to face. And time was a luxury he didn't have. The Third Great Shinobi War was looming on the horizon, a conflict so brutal it would force children barely older than they were now to take up the kunai and fight.
"Alright then. If you want to learn ninjutsu, you have to start with chakra control. The first step is tree climbing," Rin began, launching into a detailed explanation.
Her instruction was far more meticulous than the brief overview Kakashi would later give Team 7 in the Land of Waves. Takumi listened with intense focus, occasionally asking a pointed question about a detail he didn't fully grasp.
"You need to gather a precise, consistent amount of chakra to the soles of your feet," Rin explained. To demonstrate, she carefully removed her shoes, revealing her fair feet. Her toes were neat, and the soles of her feet had a healthy, rosy hue. She pointed to the specific points where the chakra should be concentrated, explaining how to achieve the strongest adhesion with the least amount of energy expenditure.
After slipping her shoes back on, she formed the Ram seal, her thumbs overlapping with the left on top. Then, with practiced ease, she walked vertically up the thick trunk of a nearby tree as if it were level ground. Takumi watched, his head tilted back, as she ascended to a point near the very top of the canopy. She waved down at them, signaling for the two boys to try.
"This is easy!" Obito boasted, immediately mimicking Rin's hand seal—a technique he'd been taught repeatedly in class.
He focused, drawing up a stream of chakra. When he felt he had gathered enough, he carefully guided it to the bottoms of his feet and took a tentative step onto the tree trunk. When he didn't immediately fall, his confidence surged, and he placed his other foot on the bark, beginning a slow, careful ascent.
"See? Nothing to it," Obito called down, a triumphant grin on his face. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see Takumi fumbling on the ground, humiliated in front of Rin.
That moment of distraction was his undoing. His chakra flickered, the adhesion broke, and he tumbled backward, landing on the soft grass with a soft thud.
"You can't lose focus for even a second when controlling chakra," Rin called down, shaking her head with a sigh.
Obito groaned, rubbing his sore backside as he pushed himself to his feet. "Alright, your turn, Takumi-kun," he said, a hint of challenge in his voice.
"Very well," Takumi replied with a simple nod.
He began his first attempt. Just like Obito, he fell, managing only a meter of height before the chakra at his feet sputtered out. He landed gracefully and immediately began his second attempt, his face a mask of concentration.
Seeing this, Obito redoubled his own efforts, a new sense of urgency driving him. He was starting to understand the old saying about regretting not studying harder until the moment you need the knowledge. He should have paid more attention during those chakra control lectures.
Two hours slipped by. The sun began its descent, casting long, golden beams of light through the forest canopy, painting the training ground in hues of orange and amber.
A look of genuine surprise gradually spread across Rin's face as she observed Takumi's progress. If she had been watching him alone, the improvement might have been less noticeable. But with Obito as a constant point of comparison, the difference was stark.
Obito had started at two meters and, after two hours of practice, could now manage a maximum of three and a half meters before falling.
But Takumi?
He was already consistently reaching five meters, just a few confident steps away from reaching the lower branches of the canopy.
As Takumi focused, pouring his will into the precise control of his energy, a familiar, silent chime resonated within his mind. He landed softly from his latest attempt and allowed himself a small, inward smile.
[Entry: Muscle Memory (Novice) - ACQUIRED.]
(End of Chapter)