I inhaled a deep breath, then proceeded to spend the next four minutes exhaling that air. By the end of the exhale every part of me was still, my body almost ceasing all signs of life as my chakra sense became attuned to the natural world and its energy.
I sensed this energy flowing through all that existed and the temptation to reach for it and absorb it to achieve sage mode was ever present, but that would be foolish even if I could use a focus crafted from my ki-wood to circumvent that difficulty. There were also the physical requirements to withstand such powerful energy, and I was nowhere near meeting them. I most likely would not be meeting them for years to come. A year or two at best.
But I was beginning to think that was a failing of the methods of this world rather than an immutable rule. Ki in the guidebooks was not mastered by absorbing the energy of the natural world. No, it was attained by finding balance within one self and in doing so, finding balance with the natural world.
The method of this world—absorbing Nature's energy and forcing the communion of man and nature was crass in comparison.
Why would you need to absorb natural energy if it could be found in everything? If it truly was omnipresent, didn't that mean we all possessed natural energy within ourselves already? Why do we need to take from nature what is already within ourselves?
The answer, as with most things, was—that it was easier.
I imagine simply absorbing natural energy into yourself if you lacked a chakra network would result in instantaneous death. But with one and sufficient reserves, you can brute force senjutsu.
If my theory was right then what would happen if I used the more difficult methods that I found in my guidebooks? My hope was that it would allow me to bypass my weaker physique to allow me to use senjutsu regardless.
The first step would be getting better at communicating with natural energy beyond sensing it and absorbing it, even though those are already quite useful.
To increase my connection with nature I turned to a concept that existed in this world but also existed in DnD under a different context.
Chakra.
Chakra was the same in DnD as it was in this world: a higher energy born of one's physical and spiritual energies. But monks in DnD had no chakra network and had to find ways to achieve this because physical and spiritual energy did not naturally mingle. You had to achieve a certain oneness to even produce the faintest wisps of the stuff.
They did that by unlocking their chakras, a bit on the nose for a name. The seven chakras or seven gates were spiritual nexus points between the body, the mind, and the soul. Unlocking and mastering them bridged that gap and allowed for a wholeness of being that chakra could spring from, and a whole host of other benefits.
Theoretically.
All of this could still be Nerd babble with no deeper substance or meaning, but I couldn't resist trying. There was no great urgency, I wasn't in great danger. I was a student of The Professor and guarded by Sharingan no Kakashi, my bank account was full and I had three beautiful girls pining after me. Life was good… but what was life without anything to strive for, without the pursuit of something greater than yourself?
Everyone had to find out what that grand goal was in order to have a life worth living, and me? I decided that pursuit would be wizardry. Wisdom gained through mystical means. That means that when I was faced with such a mystery, with the possibility of advancement and growth, I couldn't turn away.
I formed spiritual chakra, it being the most sensitive and responsive flavour of magic I had, and channelled it to the base of my spine where the first chakra—the Muldahara or root chakra—was located.
I felt something immediately, a congregation of chakra that seemed to be pulsing every moment. Some observation showed me that whatever this was seemed to be a place in my body where chakra was produced in large amounts.
Fascinating, but not what I was looking for.
This was a part of the chakra network and what I was looking for should exist beyond it. Sifting through my body and looking for that point where my soul met my body in my spine, eventually I felt what could only be described as a point of light in my spine, when I focused on it I was overcome with an overwhelming sensation of severe physical weakness and bone-deep terror.
The shock of the sensation was so great that it broke my concentration.
I blinked in shock at the sensation.
What the heck was that?
I scratch the base of my spine, my back tingling.
I sighed and looked out the window. The sun was up, and it was time to get going.
XXXXXXXXX
I watched as Naruko squirmed beside Hinata who seemed lost in thought.
As usual, I walked Naruko to school this morning. We've ran into Hinata along the way, and ever since, Naruko had gone strangely quiet. I could feel it in her chakra—guilt. She still felt bad about the jealousy she'd experienced yesterday, even though Hinata hadn't noticed. Then again, Hinata didn't seem to be noticing much of anything this morning. Her mind was clearly elsewhere.
"Penny for your thoughts?" I asked.
"N-No, I'm fine, Izuku-kun. Thank you for your concern," Hinata replied softly.
Naruko still didn't say anything, which was even more suspicious—and Hinata finally picked up on it.
"Naruko-chan? Are you alright?" she asked, her voice gentle but distracted, like she wasn't fully grounded in the moment.
Naruko plastered on one of her usual bright grins—but I could tell it was forced. Few others would've noticed, but I did. I didn't like it. I wondered what I could do to shake her out of it, when a devious little idea bloomed in my mind.
"You know," I began, voice innocently casual, "if you feel bad about how you reacted when I kissed Hinata… you could always kiss her too."
Both girls flushed scarlet instantly. Hinata, at least, was fully present now.
"Izuku! Don't say stuff like that—you're gonna gross Hinata out!" Naruko gasped, pale-faced and clearly distressed.
"I-I'm not!" Hinata blurted out before she could stop herself.
Naruko's jaw dropped. "W-What?"
"I mean… we did agree that liking other people wasn't a bad thing," I added, keeping my tone conspiratorial. I was pretty sure little tricks like this were earning me a one-way ticket to hell, but honestly, I couldn't bring myself to care.
"As long as you're the only boy," Hinata said, turning to me with a shy, teasing smile.
Now it was my turn to blush. I was more transparent than I thought.
"You… you'd really be okay with it?" Naruko asked, her voice low, uncertain—vulnerable.
Hinata's teasing melted into something softer, warmer.
"Nothing would make me happier," she said. Despite her beet-red face, she managed not to stammer.
They stared at each other for a long, delicate moment. Naruko reached out a hand, and Hinata took it. I watched with bated breath as they slowly leaned in—
"YOU!"
The shrill voice cut through the air like a kunai, making us all jump. A skinny girl with pale, flawless skin, striking blue-green eyes, and long pink hair came stomping toward us, fury etched into her face.
"Stop taking advantage of Naruko!" she yelled, eyes locked on me.
I blinked at the accusation, caught off guard. A flicker of trepidation sparked in my chest—then turned into a low, simmering anger as she kept talking.
"Just because she's dumb doesn't mean you can jus—"
"Naruko is one of the most intelligent girls I've ever met, you blithering idiot," I hissed, my temper snapping. How dare she make Naruko's life even harder than it already was? Did this happen often? Was Naruko being bullied at school?
A hot weight settled in my chest.
"Excuse me—"
"You are not excused," I growled, stepping toward her. She shrank back instinctively.
"Izuku," Naruko said gently, tugging at my sleeve. "Sakura-chan was just worried."
"This is Sakura? Really?" I asked, skepticism thick in my tone.
"Hey!" the pinkette cried out, clearly offended—though she backed off at my glare.
"I'm just saying you could do better. Heck, you were about to do better."
Both Hinata and Naruko flushed again, and Sakura watched their interaction closely. Then her eyes widened in slow realization.
"You convinced them—you sick bas—!"
"Haruno-san," Hinata interrupted, her voice clear and regal. "Please refrain from insulting my friends."
Sakura clamped her mouth shut and looked away, visibly deflated.
I took a longer look at her, suddenly aware of how young she really was. I sighed, annoyed at myself for intimidating an eleven-year-old.
"Look," I said, drawing her gaze back to me. "We train every day after school. Come by and watch. You'll see—I'm not taking advantage of anyone."
I turned back to my girls and gave them each a quick peck on the cheek.
"I've got to go to class. See you later."
"You said you weren't taking advantage!" Sakura shouted after me.
I ignored her and walked away—smiling to myself.
XXXXXXXXX
School was school—though now with the added challenge of deflecting marriage proposals without creating political enemies. Kuro helped a lot with that. We found a secluded little clearing among the Academy's extensive foliage to eat lunch and talk about our printing press and how it was coming along. It was still in the paperwork stage, but it was clear Kuro enjoyed it, and I was happy for her.
After school, we made our way to the training grounds we usually used, and found Hinata and Naruko already there—along with Sakura, who was lying on the ground, already out of breath from the light warm-ups Hinata had put her through.
"Isn't she supposed to be in Class A?" I asked, eyeing her with thinly veiled skepticism. Her physical condition was… deplorable. I'd been stronger than this when I was literally starving.
"Sakura-chan is realllly book smart," Naruko piped up from the side. That made sense. She'd have to be, to make up for how incredibly ass her practical scores must be, judging by her fitness.
"This is Sakura?" Kuro asked, giving the pinkette a slow, appraising look.
"She seems weak," she concluded.
"I'm… not… weak…" Sakura huffed from where she lay sprawled on the floor.
Kuro raised a single brow at her in clear disbelief.
"Sakura is awesome, guys! I promise—just give her a chance!" Naruko said earnestly, leaping to defend her crush.
I sighed, then walked over to the pinkette and popped a squat beside her.
"Why are you this weak, anyway? A proper diet and the training they give at the Academy should've made you stronger than this," I observed. I hadn't really expected an answer—but I got one anyway.
"Have to… watch… figure… Sasuke-kun," she wheezed.
I took a moment to process that.
"That is incredibly stupid," I said flatly. Her eyes narrowed, but she was too breathless to argue.
"I don't know much about him, but logically—Sasuke is the last male of a shinobi clan. He'll likely want to revive it someday, and he'll probably be looking for a strong kunoichi wife to help produce strong shinobi children." I looked her over critically. "The way you are now? Naruko has a better chance than you."
"The teme? Ewwww." Naruko wrinkled her nose, and the sharp spike of genuine disgust I felt in her chakra was both surprising and a little relieving.
Sakura seemed to need a moment to process that, so I left her to it.
Team Guy had recently taken their first C-rank mission, so they wouldn't be around for a while. No Guy-sensei around to help Kakashi with training—so our dear teacher would be pulling double duty.
Literally.
I felt Kakashi-sensei's chakra signature shimmer into existence as one of his shadow clones shunshined into the clearing, just as Kuro and I split off to another section of the grounds to meet the original.
After a quick greeting, Kakashi began running Kuro through more genjutsu drills. Later, they'd move on to taijutsu. Meanwhile, I stepped off to the side to begin crafting my next jutsu—one I'd been anticipating ever since I found out magic was real.
A spell every wizard should have.
Magic Missile.
It took me exactly eight minutes to replicate it with hand signs.
I stood in silence, staring at the small groove my jutsu had carved into the tree across from me. I'd expected it to be harder—but realistically, it made sense that it wasn't. I already understood the necessary hand sign selection and chakra molding required to fire a projectile and keep it cohesive until impact. I just had to add a little extra oomph to make it actually deal damage. That part wasn't hard—it didn't even require any serious nature transformation.
I mentally reviewed the twelve hand signs I had created for the jutsu. Then I went through them physically, holding the Tiger sign at the end for extra focus, and exhaled in the direction of the tree opposite me.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—crack. A shallow groove was smashed into the tree bark.
That was the part I found most interesting.
I didn't have anywhere near the reserves to produce a visible chakra manifestation, so the result was a chakra projectile that was completely invisible unless you had a dōjutsu or were a sensor-type. The downside? It also lacked significant power—the groove wasn't even an inch deep.
"Not quite as flashy as your usual fare, Gremlin-kun."
Kakashi's voice drawled from behind me. I didn't turn around. Didn't flinch. I knew he was there. I always knew now.
I had learned that lesson the hard way.
I could not endure another Thousand Years of pain. Never again.
"It's a work in progress."
"Hmm."
"Shouldn't you be teaching Kuro?"
"Oh, I am."
I turned to see Kuro staring into the middle distance, likely fighting off a genjutsu. I shrugged and returned to my jutsu.
The first part was easy. The next would not be.
The sure-hit mechanism.
I had the idea to replicate it with a homing feature, but I had no clue how to pull that off yet. Fūinjutsu maybe? Or genjutsu? I'd had some strange ideas involving sensory overlays or chakra anchors—but nothing solid yet.
Still.
I was going to figure it out.
XXXXXXXXX
I hadn't figured it out.
Which, honestly, wasn't surprising. Sure, I was pretty good at crafting jutsu—some might even call me a prodigy—but I was still inexperienced. This was probably something I'd have to take to Sarutobi-sensei.
As we walked through the evening streets of Konoha, something caught my attention—something strange. My chakra sense picked up on it first. I describe it as a smell, though that's not quite right. There's no word that fits. Just... wrong.
"Izuku?" one of my companions asked, but I barely heard them. I was already following the trail, that off-putting stench like spoiled meat and scorched silk, drawing me forward until I found myself standing before Konoha Hospital.
The doors slid open.
Out stepped a young man—at least, he looked young. But everything about his chakra screamed otherwise. It was hollow, empty, like something had chewed through the soul and spat out the pieces. The flavour of it—if chakra had flavour—was putrid. A rotting mash of rebelling parts stitched into a facsimile of life.
"May I help you?" he asked.
His voice was smooth. Kind, even. Gentle.
I nearly threw up.
He stepped closer, white hair gleaming in the sunset, round glasses catching the light as he leaned in. A cool hand pressed against my forehead.
"You seem a bit pale."
Who was this guy?