Gera and Pakin were in a field just outside of town. It was the last day before they headed out on the last leg of their journey. Kumo lay only a days’ travel away, and Gera was giving him one final test before they arrived. So, Gera stood over Pakin, scrutinizing his concentration, as the boy used every ounce of his will to keep four leaves stuck to his body.

  A cold breeze tickled Pakin’s nose, threatening his intense concentration. The leaves on the palms of his hands and soles of his feet wriggled perilously before Pakin focused on his vibrating chakra. His chakra's ringing vibrations kept him calm, pushing the tickling distraction to the back of his mind. The crisis was averted, the leaves stabilized, and Pakin continued his exercise.

  Pakin’s chakra control exercises had been very different just a week ago. He’d meditate, mold his chakra, then use it to try and hold onto a leaf. He’d failed, over and over and over again; if he was progressing, it was imperceptible to him. Still, Gera encouraged him, so he kept at it.

  Finally, a breakthrough occurred when he was meditating in the park in Yoshiwara during one of Pakin’s nightly self-study sessions. He’d grown especially frustrated that night, as he sent the leaf spinning through the air with his uncontrolled chakra. After a dozen attempts, he’d decided to think through the problem instead of trying to brute force it. Why was it so hard to make the leaf stick?

  He knew the answer, of course; it was simple. His chakra was incredibly fast in his chakra lines, so his chakra was hard to control. Trying to solve that very issue, he’d thought of a dozen ways to force his will through the disobedient energy. He’d used less chakra, multiple packets of chakra, and even a giant, oversized ball of chakra. Although that last one hadn’t worked, it had been kind of cool, the excess chakra numbing his hand and filling the air with a static-like charge.

  He’d asked Gera what to do, and she’d simply told him to keep trying and that he’d get there eventually. This was probably correct, but it still annoyed him.

  Then, he’d had a queer thought, What if I keep a tight grip on all my chakra?

  It sounded kind of stupid. Pakin couldn’t even control such a small amount; how would he control all the chakra in his body? Pakin was desperate, though, so he buckled down and focused inward.

  He tried squeezing his chakra lines tighter to restrict the flow, but that just hurt. Then, he tried pushing back against the current of his chakra, but that just hurt even worse. Finally, he focused on his heart and its unceasing ringing. Pakin compared his failed experiments to how he’d first learned to mold his chakra. He’d succeeded by working with its natural tendencies, not against them. Working under that assumption, he willed his heart to slow its ringing, to increase the time between each grand vibration.

  Ding, Ding, … Ding, … Ding, … … Ding

  Pakin was amazed as he felt the ringing of his chakra slow. It didn’t hurt and wasn’t hard to maintain; it just made him feel a little constricted. Best of all, though, it worked! With half his attention on his heart, he tried to stick the leaf to his palm. It took him much longer to mold the chakra with only half his attention, but his patience was eventually rewarded. He watched as his chakra slowly moved up his shoulder, down to his hand, and emerged gently from his palm. He held his breath as he twisted his palm over and… the leaf stuck.

  He was so excited that he had trouble sleeping that night, and when he showed Gera the next day, she applauded his effort.

  “It even makes you a little harder to detect with my chakra senses.” She’d told him.

  Now, two weeks later, he sat in the snow with four leaves stuck to his body. One on each palm, and one on the bottom of each foot. He heard Gera count down the seconds as he felt sweat beading down his brow.

  “Five, four, three, two, aaaaannnd release.” He exhaled a long, slow breath and felt his chakra speed up just a fraction as he released direct control. The leaves fluttered to the ground, and he stood before his teacher.

  Gera clapped slowly and said, “Great! Now onto your throwing weapons.”

  Pakin shouted, “Yes, Gera sensei!” and moved to join her as she walked towards the impromptu practice range she’d constructed.

  She’d painted targets onto large wooden planks, then strapped them to a nearby tree so they were eye level with Pakin. Grouped into stacks of ten, three separate piles of kunai, shuriken, and senbon sat on a stump nearby, gleaming in the midday sun.

  Pakin walked up to the stump and retrieved the stack of kunai first. He lined up with a target and waited for Gera to give her mark, repeating the four rules for a good throw in his mind.

  Solid grip, even breath, smooth wind up, deliberate release. Solid grip, even breath, smooth wind up, deliberate release. Solid grip… Pakin repeated it like a mantra, a prayer, to whatever god could bless him with accuracy.

  Gera raised her hand and started the countdown. “Ready. Set.” She chopped her hand down and shouted, “Begin!”

  Tunk and he’d thrown the first kunai from a holstered position to simulate pulling it from a pouch. Tunk, Tunk, Tunk, and he’d thrown the next three in quick succession. Tunk, a pause, Tunk as he switched to his left hand and missed one throw. He threw his final kunai while dashing sideways as if dodging an enemy movement. Pakin swore under his breath as it whistled right past the target and into the woods beyond.

  The following two sets of throws were much the same. He nailed seven out of ten shuriken and ten out of ten senbon. A new personal best, but would it be enough to satisfy his teacher?

  I knew I should’ve practiced more with my left hand. Pakin thought to himself, as he lamented the four throws he’d missed. Gera was big on ambidextrous wielding. She always said, “You’ve got two hands, use them.”

  After Pakin returned from gathering the thrown weapons. She declared, “Alright, good. Now, last but not least, taijutsu.”

  Pakin audibly gulped as he and Gera made their way towards a circle of shoveled snow they’d prepared for this spar.

  This was the test he was most worried about; he hadn’t been able to hit Gera once the whole time they’d been sparring. After every session, he walked away with at least a half dozen bruises. On the positive side, he’d gotten used to the ridiculous speed Gera used to deliver his punishments. However, he couldn’t match her agility, so the best he could do was brace himself for the resulting pain.

  The two combatants stood equidistant at opposite sides in the circle of dead grass. Gera made the Seal of Confrontation, and Pakin did the same. He could feel his heart speeding up in his chest, the ringing of his chakra becoming more audible in his mind. More and more, he’d been relying on that sound to center himself during training, and right now he needed it more than ever.

  “Begin!” Gera shouted without preamble. She took a neutral defensive stance, her unspoken command that Pakin approach first. Ever the faithful student, he obliged.

  Pakin took off at a run, and his pounding feet ate up the ground between them. Right before he reached her, he dropped and sped across the ground in a sliding kick. She hopped to avoid him, and he moved to capitalize on her midair vulnerability. Pushing off the ground with one hand, his torso sprang forwards and up, propelling a fist angled towards her chest.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Gera didn’t even blink as she retaliated in midair.

  Pat, tat, fwish

  Gera slapped Pakin’s fist down with a palm strike, then followed up with a side kick to his head that he barely blocked. He wiped outwards with his blocking arm, and she cartwheeled sideways with the momentum of his wipe. All of it had happened in the space of one breath, leaving Pakin reeling.

  Are you kidding me? That was insane! Internally incensed at Gera’s superhuman acrobatics, he regained his composure and chased her across the circle.

  The ringing of Pakin’s heart increased in tempo as he pursued his teacher. She juked sideways, then blasted forward, rocketing towards his right side and on course to meet him in his charge.

  Pakin was caught off guard, and Gera got a good one-two combo in before he managed to throw out a wild front kick to create space. He skipped back to rebuild his guard, then dived back into melee. Letting Gera put him on the defensive would get him pummeled.

  At the beginning, they’d been testing each other with deliberate probing strikes, but now they picked up speed; now, a staccato performance of flesh on flesh and boot on shirt was joined by the increasing tempo of Pakin’s ringing heart. Gera’s every move shouted at him to catch up, and Pakin had to draw on all of his training to do just that.

  The music of their fight only grew louder as Gera slowly turned up the heat, and Pakin did his best to match pace. As their battle sped up, Pakin could feel his muscles burning with energy, his mind revving like a sports car’s engine, and his nerves firing with unprecedented speed. His body’s capacities stretched to their limits, so he could keep up with his teacher.

  Pakin blocked a front kick from Gera with a tight cross guard, skidding back a little on the muddy ground. He immediately whipped out a backhand with his left, his right trailing behind for a follow-up. Gera caught the first and tried to twist it to the side, but his follow-up forced her out of position, causing her head to lurch back and her torso to lean awkwardly.

  Ding, DIng, DINg, DING, DING, DING, GONG!

  Pakin felt the ringing crescendo, the loud GONG from his first chakra experience returning. His chakra flowed through him unimpeded, limbs flooding with ice-cold vitality. Pakin ignored all that, his eyes trained on Gera’s exposed stomach.

  The thoughts that would usually stop him were silenced by the violent ringing of his life force as he twists his back foot sideways and swings his front leg up and down right onto Gera’s stomach.

  Gera’s eyes bulged and her teeth cracked together for a split second, but it passed like a fading mirage. Pakin’s foot slid off her abs as she twisted out from under him.

  She broke away as Pakin tried to recover from his failed attack. They sized each other up for a moment, and just as Pakin was about to reengage, Gera smiled, spread her arms wide, and exclaimed, “That’s what I’m talking about!”

  She rushed in faster than he could see, putting him in a headlock and giving him the foulest noogie this side of the hidden cloud.

  Pakin wanted to gripe, but found himself laughing instead, as he pushed futilely on Gera’s steel-like grip. After a few more noogies, she let him go and stood proudly in front of him. She placed her hands on her hips, her smile never faltering, and proclaimed, “Barely passable!”

  Pakin’s mind skipped like a scratched record, and he stared dumbfounded at his teacher.

  Gera kept her grin and gave her assessment. “Your chakra control is good. Your molding and multitasking needs work, but you’re pretty much ready to start using hand seals. Your bukijutsu is laughable; if anyone asks, I didn’t teach it to you. However, for a regular academy student, it’s not half bad. And finally, your taijutsu is sub-par, you missed a dozen openings I left for you, rushed your counters, overextended constantly, and reacted slower than a sloth.”

  Pakin felt a vessel about to burst on his forehead.

  Seeming to sense the coming explosion, Gera held out a finger and said, “Now wait! All that being said, you take shots fantastically. You kept your eyes open, didn’t panic, and tried to stay proactive during each engagement. With only a month of training, you have demonstrated the most practical and difficult-to-acquire skills for any beginning fighter. That is exemplary.” She let the finger drop and finished by saying, “The rest you can work on.”

  Pakin felt his anger wilt like a fruit on the vine, and chuckled ruefully at his teacher’s antics. Gera had told him to give it his all, and he’d done just that for a whole month. Now, he felt ready to take on whatever the academy threw at him.

  Gera and Pakin sat in an izakaya celebrating Pakin’s passing grade. Just a few nights ago, he helped wash dishes at this very establishment; in return, they fed him some leftovers and gave him a very basic cooking lesson.

  The staff didn’t really understand what kind of test he’d passed, but they were happy for him nonetheless. So, they’d sent him their congratulations through a waiter and even slid a free dessert his way. A plate of sake manju.

  “Sho,” Gera said through a mouthful of chicken, “Whad waz up wiff yur frafra?”

  Pakin sipped his water, waited for Gera to finish chewing, and asked, “What did you say?”

  Gera wiped the grease from her lips and replied, “I said, what was up with your chakra. I’ve noticed you've been keeping a tight grip on it since your method breakthrough, but I could feel it going crazy during our duel.”

  Pakin finished off a bite of dashi omelet before answering her question. “I do. I was just so focused on the spar that I completely let go. Then, I don’t know. The ringing I told you about kept getting louder and louder until it exploded through my body. It was like the craziest second wind I’ve ever felt.” Pakin looked down at his hand and clenched it into a fist before saying, “I still feel it too. It’s like I feel stronger than before the spar. Noticeably too, not just in a retrospective way.”

  Gera slapped the table so hard all the dishes clattered and exclaimed, “YES! I knew it was coming soon!”

  Pakin stopped a bowl from tipping over as he raised an eyebrow at Gera.

  “It happens to every person who trains with chakra. Eventually, as you build up more chakra and train your body, the two types of energies get denser. Once they reach a certain threshold, they ‘condense’ and become qualitatively different from before. This usually isn’t a big deal, it happens to regular shinobi about twice a month if they’re actively training, but for you-” She used the skewer from a chicken meatball to at Pakin. “-it's important. Not a lot of research has been done on it. Still, many experts agree that, since condensing your chakra fundamentally changes your body, shinobi with poor constitutions could overcome their deficiencies with enough training.”

  He had intentionally avoided the thought, but Gera had repeatedly explained that his body would disadvantage him. It was a hard fact that he had to train that hard and that much just to get where most kids started. Her training wasn’t meant to make him great; it was just to make him average. Gera had repeated over and over that he’d need to put in twice as much work to match the results of his future peers.

  He’d pushed those thoughts into the back of his mind, but when he almost collapsed during conditioning or when Gera landed a particularly harsh strike in a spar, he caught himself thinking All this just to reach the starting line?

  Now, though, he had hope that his future could be more than painful training and relentless discipline. Pakin felt his excitement rising, and asked, “So, I could be as strong as a regular shinobi? Even with the damage the wasting did?”

  “Yes. However, don’t get ahead of yourself. All that stuff I said about quadrupling your effort applies literally here. Most kids would’ve condensed their chakra a couple of times with the kind of training I’ve been giving you. In fact, chakra condensation is such a common occurrence that few shinobi even know it exists. The only reason I know is because my teacher taught me about it, and I did some research on your condition before I left for Fuwayama.”

  Pakin felt his hopes flag at the reality check. His body would still be just as much of a hindrance as before. Now, though, I know what to aim for. He thought, remembering the rush of power as his chakra ‘condensed’. Pakin could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

  The two talked for another hour about the implications of Pakin’s chakra condensation, but Gera eventually told him to head back to the inn. As Pakin left, he heard her grumble something about slippery sensory-nin and cornering weasels.

  He left Gera to whatever she was mumbling about and headed back to their room. Ever since arriving in this village, she’d kept disappearing at random times and returning with a frustrated look on her face. He figured it had something to do with her mission for this town, so he hadn’t bothered her about it. Besides, whenever he asked about her missions, she’d just say, “Shinobi secret, I’ll tell you when you’re older.” So he’d decided to just stop asking.

  He hoped that whatever was bothering her so much could be resolved tonight. That way, they could head to Kumo tomorrow with a skip in their step and smiles on their faces.