Chapter 3: A Lesson in "C-Rank" Jutsu
A relentless pounding, like a woodpecker on a mission, shattered the pre-dawn silence. "Hiraoka! Hey, Hiraoka! Wake up!"
Kamikawa Hiraoka groaned, swimming up from the depths of a wonderful dream. He fumbled for the clock on his bedside table, squinting at its hands in the gloom. Three o'clock in the morning. Three.
A wave of profound regret washed over him. He had only himself to blame. Yesterday, flushed with the minor triumph of mastering a new technique and wanting to impress Naruto, he had foolishly boasted about knowing a "C-rank ninjutsu." He should have known that to Uzumaki Naruto, those words were a siren's call.
"Hiraoka! You promised!" Naruto's voice, slightly muffled but undimmed in its enthusiasm, came through the door.
The commotion began to stir the neighbors. A window slid open nearby. "Hey! Keep it down out there! Some of us have to work at a decent hour!"
"Who's yelling at this ungodly time?"
The shouts from neighboring apartments finally seemed to penetrate Naruto's single-minded focus, and his knocking subsided into a soft, persistent tapping.
Inside, Hiraoka was already splashing water on his face, a wry chuckle escaping his lips. This was Uzumaki Naruto in his pure, unadulterated form—a force of nature with the patience of a hummingbird.
With a sigh, he walked over and pulled the door open. Naruto stood there, his hand frozen mid-knock, a wide, sheepish grin spreading across his whiskered face.
"Uh… hey. The C-rank jutsu…?" he said, his eyes shining with unbearable anticipation.
Hiraoka looked at him, this boy who probably hadn't even thought about breakfast in his mad dash to learn a new trick. "I said, Naruto, it's the middle of the night. You can't learn a legendary technique on an empty stomach. Come on. I'm treating you."
Naruto opened his mouth to protest, to insist they go straight to the training ground, but his stomach betrayed him with a loud, plaintive gurgle. The two boys looked at each other for a moment, and then simultaneous grins broke out on their faces. The tension broke.
Hiraoka pulled him inside. "I don't have any ramen, but I've got the next best thing." He gestured to a small stockpile of cup noodles. He'd been skeptical of them at first, a relic of his past life, but one taste had been a revelation. Now he understood Naruto's devotion completely.
When Hiraoka placed the steaming cup in front of him—and it was his favorite flavor, no less—Naruto's eyes went as wide as saucers. He took a deep, reverent sniff of the savory steam.
"I'm about to start!" Naruto declared, clutching his chopsticks like sacred tools.
Hiraoka chuckled, picking up his own cup. "Let's eat."
The first hints of dawn were painting the sky in pale watercolors when they reached a small, secluded clearing. The air was crisp and cool.
"Alright," Hiraoka began, stretching his arms. "The C-rank ninjutsu I'm going to demonstrate is called the Sexy Jutsu."
Naruto vibrated with excitement. "The Sexy Jutsu? That sounds awesome! Show me, show me!"
Hiraoka took a calming breath. He had explained the basic concept on the way over, but the practical demonstration was always the most impactful. He focused his chakra, the system-granted knowledge flowing effortlessly. His hands flew through a series of seals.
"Sexy Jutsu!"
There was a puff of smoke. Where Kamikawa Hiraoka had stood was now a stunning, smoke-shrouded figure—a idealized vision of feminine beauty. Wisps of white mist clung strategically to the form, hinting at more than they showed, a masterclass in alluring implication.
In the Hokage's Office…
Sarutobi Hiruzen, having decided to check on his two most… energetic new academy students, peered into his Crystal Ball. He took a sip of tea just as the smoke cleared in the scrying orb.
Pfft!
A spray of tea misted his desk, followed by a sudden, warm trickle from his nose. He sputtered, wiping his face with his sleeve. "By the Sage…" he muttered, his aged cheeks flushing. "That boy… his control is… disturbingly precise." He shook his head, a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement on his face. "This is going to be a problem."
Back in the clearing, Naruto was practically bouncing on his heels. "Whoa! That's incredible! I gotta learn it! Teach me, Hiraoka, please!"
Hiraoka dispelled the jutsu, returning to his normal form. "It's about channeling your chakra in a very specific way. You have to form a clear mental image and then mold your chakra to match it. Like this…" He began explaining the fundamentals, breaking down the chakra control required in simple terms.
Naruto listened with an intensity he rarely showed in the classroom, his brow furrowed in concentration. Once he had the basic method memorized, he immediately ran off to a clear spot and began practicing, his face a mask of determined focus.
Left to his own devices, Hiraoka wandered over to a large, comfortable-looking tree, leaning back against its broad trunk. The lack of sleep was catching up to him. The gentle rustle of leaves and Naruto's occasional grunts of frustration were a lullaby. His eyes grew heavy, and he slipped into a deep sleep, his dreams quickly filling with the shy, smiling face of a certain Hyuga heiress. He was just leaning in for a kiss when…
"Damn it! It's still not right! The proportions are all wrong!"
Hiraoka's eyes snapped open. The dream-Hinata vanished. The sun was now high in the sky. He fixed a death glare on Naruto, who was staring critically at his own transformed hand.
"Naruto," Hiraoka said, his voice dangerously calm. "What seems to be the problem?"
"I've been practicing for two hours!" Naruto complained, gesturing frantically. "But the body proportions! They're just not coordinating right!"
Hiraoka took a deep, steadying breath, letting the dream-induced irritation fade. "Alright, show me what you've got."
Naruto nodded seriously, formed the ram seal, and shouted, "Sexy Jutsu!"
There was a puff of smoke. When it cleared, Hiraoka's jaw went slack.
Standing before him was a perfect, flawless illusion. It was, without a doubt, the most masterfully executed Sexy Jutsu he had ever seen. The form was idealized in every way, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, yet obscured by artfully placed mist in just the right places.
'This… this is what he calls 'not coordinated'?' Hiraoka thought, utterly dumbfounded.
"See?" Naruto's voice came from the illusion, pointing at a mist-shrouded area. "This part is too small. It should be bigger!"
Hiraoka was rendered speechless. A strange, grudging admiration warred with a surge of pure, unadulterated envy. The kid was a natural prodigy at the most useless jutsu in existence.
"You… you still have a long way to go to reach my level," Hiraoka declared, his pride refusing to admit defeat. He performed his own transformation, his version more subtle and implied.
Naruto immediately scurried over, his transformed figure leaning in to curiously poke at the mist surrounding Hiraoka's illusion. "Huh! Yours is… puffier!"
In the Hokage's Office…
Pfft!
Another spray of blood, this one more impressive than the last, decorated the Hokage's paperwork. Hiruzen Sarutobi slumped forward, massaging his temples with both hands. "Those two…" he moaned, his voice thick with despair. "I'm going to have to assign a special ANBU watch to them, aren't I? The 'Prevention of Public Indecency' squad."
Hiraoka dispelled the jutsu, his cheeks slightly flushed. The sun was climbing steadily. "It's getting late. We should head to the academy before we're marked tardy."
"Yeah, alright!" Naruto agreed, dispelling his own transformation with a final, satisfied grin. He had mastered a C-rank jutsu before breakfast. Today was already the best day ever.
As they walked, Hiraoka glanced at the beaming blond boy beside him. He had created a monster. A magnificent, incredibly talented, and utterly shameless monster. And he couldn't help but feel it was entirely worth it.
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