…
Murakami sat on the balcony behind his house as he watched the leaves sway at the movement of the wind.
With Aiko gone, he was forced to face the silence that came with being a loner in a world devoid of entertainment.
It wasn't anything new but he couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
Following that, he closed his eyes and entered his mindscape.
The moon hung high up in the sky illuminating the space with its pale blue light.
Murakami noted how vacant the space was but didn't pay it any mind. There was nothing he could do about it without sacrificing something.
That was the principle of creation. There must be an exchange of energy, and the exchange wasn't temporary, but permanent.
The moon was proof of this.
It was a crystallization of his spiritual energy and he hadn't been able to create another one since its conception.
Even the line star that now hung alongside it came about when he made a breakthrough in his mental abilities.
Awakening Star.
That was the name he gave it.
It enabled him to turn his perception inward and observe his body's internal state with clarity.
Chakra reserves, pathways, damage, and most relevantly, the green threads of the Skin Refining Stage.
Think of it as a passive internal scanner that activates on demand.
It doesn't require the mindscape specifically since Murakami could use it in the waking world by simply closing his eyes and directing attention inward.
However, the mindscape gives him a cleaner, more detailed version of the same sight.
Another one of its abilities was Chakra flow perception.
This was an extension of internal observation but directed externally.
Where internal observation reads his own body, chakra flow perception allows him to sense and read the movement of chakra in his immediate environment, in other people, in techniques forming nearby, and potentially in the ground or air if chakra has been channeled through them.
He had employed it in his earlier spar against Aiko rendering all her attacks null as none could reach him.
'I don't have the sharingan so I can't particularly compare them.' Murakami thought, his expression calm as he thought of the clan with the most similar ability to his newly awakened one.
The final ability he got from the star was Emotional Awareness.
Murakami categorised this as the most subtle of the three and the most dangerous if misunderstood.
This ability wasn't mind-reading, it's the ability to read the emotional state of people in his immediate presence with unusual accuracy, through micro-signals most people process unconsciously but never consciously access.
Breathing patterns, muscle tension, chakra fluctuation under emotional stress. For a pragmatist like Murakami, this is less about empathy and more about information gathering.
Murakami didn't feel this was an ability in itself, but an upgrade to his already active and observant mind and this was the connecting principle across all three.
The Awakening Star is fundamentally about perception before action.
Every ability it unlocked is observational; reading the self, reading energy, reading people.
To Murakami, this sets the foundation for every upgrade that could follow.
Reality is only as clear as your perception of it and you can't control what you can't first perceive.
Having reached this conclusion, Murakami turned his attention inward to the green thread of energy flowing underneath his skin.
He hadn't used it during his spar with Aiko as he himself hadn't fully understood it.
He had given this new stage a name: Skin refining, but he had no idea how to actually refine the skin.
Martial artists refined the skin and the idea is that the body is initially "ordinary." But through cultivation, external energy (qi), internal energy, or life force is repeatedly infused into the skin until it undergoes a qualitative transformation.
The skin changes from simply being flesh into something that can conduct energy efficiently, resist physical damage, breathe or absorb energy more effectively and serve as the foundation for refining deeper tissues.
It's less about making the skin thicker and more about making it stronger at a microscopic or energetic level.
And while that was clear, it was something that Murakami couldn't wrap his head around because of one simple fact.
External qi in this world is Natural energy, and without a proper guide on how to absorb it, he risked turning himself into one with nature.
And Murakami had no inclination of turning into a rock at such a young age.
So while that was the mainstream method in most martial art worlds, he couldn't walk that path.
But that didn't mean there weren't other means of progression.
There was the External tempering, medicinal refinement and internal pressure.
External tempering was particularly common since practitioners merely need to subject their body to punishments that include carrying heavy weights, enduring extreme heat, freezing temperatures, being struck repeatedly, or fighting stronger opponents.
The damage stimulates adaptation, internal energy then repairs the body causing the repaired skin to become stronger than before.
This was the path Murakami was most familiar with since he already always had the weighted seal active, however since breaking through and acquiring the green thread, the seal had become ineffective.
He had the option of upgrading the seal or simply engraving the seal on external objects which he'd then wear on his body.
But that was dangerous as he was basically awakening himself when he shouldn't.
If it was in the past, it was understandable since he was in the academy, but as an active Shinobi, he didn't have the luxury of being handicapped.
His life and death was not something to joke with.
As for medicinal refinement, he would have to use certain exotic beast blood containing a certain quality of life, herbal pastes, medicinal baths or pills.
These contain energy that penetrates the skin so the practitioner could circulate his internal energy to absorb everything.
That was where Aiko came in. However, he knew that waiting on her would only be a waste of time since even if she got the necessary herbs, she'd still need to learn how to concoct the medicinal solution for refinement.
That would take years of study, trials and error. Definitely worth looking forward to but not worth waiting for.
There was also Nara Katsuro.
The Nara clan, despite their kekkai genkai of shadow manipulation and their strategic mind, dealt with wildlife conservation and medicine firstly before they were Shinobi.
He could ask a favor from Katsuro, but like with Aiko, Katsuro was just a genin. He wasn't even the clan heir or prospective clan heir.
And even if Katsuro knew and could be of help, he had no idea about which medicine and beast would fit the deal.
This too came with its own risks.
If Katsuro is able to help, he wouldn't be able to keep his intentions hidden. Katsuro was smart. The Nara clan was filled with smart clan members.
All they'd need is to look through the list of medicine and kind of beast blood required to pinpoint their effects, and by extension, Murakami's use of it.
That was not something he was keen on allowing. He still preferred to remain low-key and grow in silence and let his strength send shivers down his opponents spine.
Murakami's lips arced slightly before returning to its normal state. He couldn't allow his excitement to get the better of him.
And with that, came the last path: Internal Pressure.
This was as self explanatory as its name.
All it required was internal compression of internal energy to pressure the skin internally leading to stretching tissues,
creating microscopic tears and then forcing reconstruction.
"Hmm." Murakami stroked his chin in thought.
It was indeed simple but a mistake could cause irreparable damage.
It was risky, but it was also the most controllable of the three.
External tempering relied on outside forces.
Medicinal tempering depended on scarce resources.
Internal pressure relied on neither.
As long as he could precisely regulate the amount of energy being compressed beneath his skin, he could induce just enough stress to stimulate refinement without crossing the threshold into injury.
Of course, that "just enough" would be the hardest part.
One mistake, and the same pressure meant to temper his body could just as easily tear it apart from within.
"I think that'll be the equivalent of qi deviation." Murakami muttered and immediately sat down in a lotus position and closed his eyes.
As soon as he did, the Internal situation of his body became clear to him. He could see the flickering ball of chakra like a flame suspended in his lower abdominal region.
With a thought a thread of chakra flowed out from the flickering ball and made its way through his pathways.
A few seconds passed and the thread completed a full circulation through his 361 tenketsu before returning to his center.
Murakami remained still, his consciousness sinking deeper into the feel of his chakra.
He had always felt the distinct difference between the two energies that constitutes chakra during his regular morning routines, but since awakening the ability of Internal Body Observation, the distinction seem to have become far clearer than before.
Chakra was one whole, yet it was born from the union of two different forces.
Spiritual energy and Vital energy.
Like two streams flowing side by side.
One carried a quality he could only describe as weight; it was dense and warm, tied to his heartbeat and his breath in a way that felt fundamentally physical.
The other was cooler, quieter, and less like something the body produced and more like something that simply resided there.
With careful precision, he guided the circulating chakra through another cycle. This time, however, he did not allow the two energies to remain intertwined.
He focused his attention against the seam between them and pulled.
As he did that, a fraction of the dense energy peeled away from the current reluctantly, it was like separating two things that had been pressed together long enough to almost forget they were two things.
It didn't look like chakra anymore.
Where chakra appeared as a flowing current with the quality of moving water, this was different, in addition to being denser and slower, it carried the same warmth he associated with the green thread.
As it flowed through his pathways, the sensation he felt immediately changed.
The originally vibrant blue current carried a warmth that chakra itself never possessed.
Murakami watched intently. "So this is vital energy..."
There was no excitement in his voice, only quiet confirmation of something that he had been aware of but never had the privilege of observing.
He allowed the thread of vital energy to reach his forearm before slowing its movement.
Then, he compressed it.
This wasn't all too difficult for him.
Of all his abilities, chakra control was amongst the best.
And even if vital energy wasn't chakra, it was still energy, and energy manipulation was his forte.
As the two energy met, the thread immediately resisted causing the warmth in his arm to intensify as the flow narrowed.
The flesh responded, not dramatically, but beneath the skin, at the level where the green thread pulsed, something registered the pressure causing the thread to brighten.
This was the same localized brightening he'd observed during his thumb tests on the journey back, but more pronounced now, as though the source of the pressure was closer to what it had been waiting for all along.
So he increased the pressure incrementally causing the warmth to spread through the surrounding tissue in a slow, even wave, and he felt his forearm the way he'd never felt it before.
Not as a limb per se, but as a structure, layers of tissue with distinct densities and textures, each one registering the pressure differently.
The once hair-thin strand began condensing into something even finer.
Then he pushed slightly too hard and a dull ache spread beneath the skin.
It was a sharp, hot warning, not pain exactly, more the immediate biological signal that preceded pain, the body's earliest alarm before damage actually occurred.
Murakami ignored it.
He compressed further.
The ache sharpened into a prickling pain, as though countless tiny needles were pressing outward from within.
His skin trembled almost imperceptibly.
'Enough.' Murakami released the pressure immediately and held the compressed strand in place for several breaths before gradually dispersing it.
The pain subsided but the warmth remained.
A thoughtful look crossed his face as his eyes snapped open. "It works."
The process had indeed produced internal pressure.
He sat with that for a moment, breathing evenly as he observed the fading warmth in his forearm.
'Too much,' he noted internally.
Not the pressure itself, the rate.
It seemed like the tissues needs more time to adapt between increments.
Force it faster than it can accept and it doesn't temper. It tears.
He'd read enough, in his old life, about the difference between stress that built and stress that broke.
The same principle that made a blade stronger through controlled heating and cooling destroyed it if the temperature changed too fast.
The body, apparently, was no different.
Refinement required a gradual, consistent and patient approach.
He adjusted his attention, and began again, slower this time, the separation more careful, the pressure built by degrees small enough that the tissue had time to register each increment before the next arrived.
The green thread pulsed steadily beneath it all.
One thread, he reminded himself. As long as he could refine it to its limits, he'd be able to break through the next stage.
As for what the limits of this stage was, he had no idea, but he'd surely get an idea when he reaches nine threads...right?
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