The trio arrived at a small restaurant tucked away near the edge of the civilian district, far enough from the shinobi compounds to feel almost peaceful.
It was nothing fancy like the one from earlier in the morning. It had worn wooden tables, the scent of miso and grilled fish thick in the air, and a tired-looking owner who recognized Murakami enough to offer a respectful nod without asking questions.
Hideki slumped into his seat with a dramatic groan, still picking bits of dirt from his hair. "I'm never training with you again. My back feels like it went through a meat grinder."
Sora adjusted his newly repaired glasses and gave a tired but genuine smile. "It was… enlightening. Brutal, but enlightening."
Murakami sat across from them, posture straight despite the lingering ache in his arms.
He ordered simple rice, grilled mackerel, pickled vegetables and ate methodically while listening to their complaints and half-joking threats.
They soon finished eating and he paid for the meal without comment and stood, gave them both a small nod and said. "That's enough for today. Rest properly and go through what we've learned today. We'll continue tomorrow if your bodies allow it."
Hideki waved lazily. "Yeah, yeah. Try not to blow up the training ground while we're gone."
Sora met his eyes for a moment longer. "Thanks for pushing us."
Murakami didn't smile, but he offered a brief, "You're welcome," before turning away.
The walk home was quiet. The streets of Konoha carried the usual mix of emotional tensions; whispers of frontline news, the occasional exhausted chunin passing through, mothers clutching children tighter as they walked.
Murakami kept his presence low as he walked, just another unremarkable genin heading home.
His modest house waited at the end of a narrow lane. Once inside, he headed straight to the small study room at the back.
He sat down, rolled his shoulders once, and began analyzing the Shockwave Jutsu.
For nearly an hour he scribbled notes, sketched rough diagrams of chakra flow, and tested theories on paper.
He mapped the compression stages, noted where lateral dispersion occurred, and guessed at possible solutions; tighter chakra control, better pre-conditioning of the arm's meridians, perhaps integrating a simple fuinjutsu matrix on his palm to stabilize the release.
He gained a basic framework: a clearer sequence for multi-layer compression and a few ideas for reducing recoil. But it wasn't substantial yet.
Too many variables, too many unknowns without better reference materials.
Frustration flickered briefly before he pushed it aside. Guessing without proper foundations was inefficient.
Murakami set the notes aside, closed his eyes, and leaned back slightly.
Time to shift focus.
He turned his attention inward.
The blue moon hung serene over the horizon of his mindscape, its cool light reflecting across the still sea of consciousness.
'What exactly can I do with this place?' he wondered.
There were no real references from the anime he remembered.
Itachi's Tsukuyomi was a specialized genjutsu tool obtained from the Mangyekou Sharingan, not a general mindscape.
The jinchuriki spaces were mostly mental prisons for the bijuu. Nothing like this, a personal, empty realm with a blue moon watching over it.
There were no instructions or precedent he could recall.
He considered his options carefully. 'Perhaps it's only good for deep meditation? Or organizing memories?'
Then a thought surfaced: the visualization technique he had developed during his early martial arts training.
Back then, he used it to mentally rehearse katas, imagining opponents and movements in detail. It had always been limited by his imagination and focus.
What if he tried it here?
Curious, he attempted it immediately and the mindscape responded.
Before him, twelve constructs materialized, translucent yet solid-looking figures shaped like generic academy-level opponents, each holding basic stances.
They felt 'real'. He could sense their presence, their approximate weight, even the faint shift of air as they moved.
A rare, small smile tugged at Murakami's lips. 'This… this changes things.'
Without hesitation, he engaged them.
The constructs attacked in coordinated waves, mimicking real taijutsu.
Murakami moved through his Katas, his forms executed with perfect mental clarity. Fist, palm, leg, and movement flowed seamlessly.
He dismantled the first few with efficient strikes, exploiting openings he spotted instantly.
The blue moon's light seemed to sharpen his perception, every micro-movement clear in this mental realm.
One by one, the twelve constructs shattered under his assault.
There was no physical exhaustion or strain, just pure technique and decision-making.
Only after the last one dissolved did he pause, breathing steady in the mental space.
'What else can I do here?'
Then the realization hit him. If he could create fighting mental constructs… couldn't he also simulate a technique?
He focused on the Shockwave Jutsu.
A mental version of himself formed, palm outstretched. He gathered chakra, compressed it through the familiar stages, core to shoulder to palm, and released it.
BOOM.
The cone erupted cleanly in the mindscape. There was recoil, burning meridians or physical backlash.
He could feel every detail of the compression, the exact point where lateral dispersion began, and the balance between Wind and Earth nature.
His smile widened slightly. 'Perfect.'
He began spamming the technique. Dozens of repetitions followed in rapid succession.
Each time, he adjusted variables, tighter layering here, altered tenketsu routing there, subtle changes in breathing rhythm borrowed from his katas.
He observed the results with cold precision, noting improvements and remaining flaws without any cost to his real body.
The blue moon watched silently as Murakami relentlessly refined his understanding, iteration after iteration, in the vast quiet of his mind.
…
Murakami slowly opened his eyes. For a brief moment, a faint flicker of light passed through them, the lingering reflection of the blue moon still fading from his awareness.
He remained seated at his desk, fingers lightly tapping the edge of his notebook as the insights from the mindscape settled into place.
The mental simulations had been incredibly productive.
What started as simple visualisation and refinement had crystallized into a much clearer understanding of the Shockwave Jutsu.
The technique was far more versatile than its current C-rank classification suggested.
In truth, it sat at the high end of C-rank, bordering on low B-rank territory, though it still lagged behind true B-rank techniques in raw destructive power.
Its true value lay not in overwhelming force, but in precision, adaptability, and control.
At its core, the Shockwave Jutsu was a pure chakra compression and repulsion technique. No nature transformation was required for the foundation.
It relied entirely on his exceptional chakra control, gathering, layering, and condensing chakra into a dense, pressurized burst before releasing it in a directed wave.
This purity made it incredibly flexible. He could shape the output into a focused cone, a rolling ground wave, a point-blank explosion, or even a subtle pulse for close-quarters disruption.
The versatility opened numerous applications.
In taijutsu exchanges, he could release small shockwaves through his palms or elbows to amplify strikes, create instant distance during grapples, or destabilize an opponent mid-motion.
It served equally well as a defensive tool to deflect incoming attacks or clear space in chaotic skirmishes.
Because it was fundamentally a control technique, it scaled naturally with his growth.
As his compression improved and his stamina increased, the same jutsu would grow stronger without needing entirely new formulas.
Murakami tapped his notebook again, jotting down a few quick observations.
This purity also explained the heavy recoil at his current level. Without elemental assistance to stabilize the form, every release demanded perfect containment until the final instant.
That challenge was exactly why it suited him. It rewarded mastery over brute force.
He could already see the long path ahead: refining the compression layers, reducing the telegraph even further, and eventually integrating fuinjutsu matrices for better containment.
One day, when his foundation was truly solid, he might add nature transformations to elevate it into something truly terrifying, but that was for the future.
For now, this pure chakra version aligned perfectly with his approach.
Efficient and controllable.
A technique that let him decide the flow of battle rather than simply overpower it.
He set the brush down and exhaled slowly, progress had been made today.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
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