Finally, Satoru found the library. He had been wandering for longer than he cared to admit. By the time he pushed open the broad wooden doors, he nearly sighed in relief; the faint creak of the hinges felt like a chorus of angels.
"Finally," he muttered under his breath, though his voice was swallowed up immediately by the hush inside.
The place was enormous, far larger than he had imagined. High ceilings arched overhead, supported by heavy beams darkened with age; shelves stretched down long aisles, stacked with leather-bound tomes, scrolls wrapped in faded cloth, and neat rows of slim volumes.
A faint smell of old parchment and polished wood hung in the air. Sunlight filtered through tall paper-screened windows, painting warm rectangles on the wooden floor. It was the kind of place that demanded reverence; every sound seemed to echo, magnified by the silence.
A lone librarian, a thin man with round spectacles and a perpetually suspicious expression, eyed Satoru from behind a long desk. But when Satoru approached, his tone was courteous if clipped.
"What section?" the man asked.
Satoru leaned forward slightly, "Chakra. Anything on chakra, really."
The librarian squinted, then jerked his chin toward the eastern wing. "Row five, shelves three through nine. You'll find what you need there. Handle the texts carefully; some of them are older than your great-grandparents."
Satoru nodded quickly, murmured his thanks, and hurried off before the man could change his mind.
When he reached the shelves, his eyes widened. The spines of the books bore titles in neat ink, though many of them were faded with age. He traced the rows with his fingers, reading titles aloud in his head.
"'Chakra Flow for Dummies: A Civilian's Guide to Not Exploding Yourself.' … what in the world?" His mouth twitched.
Another caught his eye: "'One Hundred and One Hand Signs You're Probably Doing Wrong.' Sounds promising."
Next to it sat "'The Idiot's Guide to Chakra Affinities (And How Not to Burn Down Your House)'" and "'Basic Chakra Control: Because Walking on Trees Shouldn't Be Impossible.'"
Satoru snorted softly. "If only they had one titled, 'How Not to Die in a World of Child Soldiers.' I'd snatch that immediately."
Still, he pulled a stack from the shelves, some slim, some heavy, and carried them to a small table tucked against the far wall. The chairs creaked faintly when he sat down, the wood worn smooth by years of readers. He spread the books before him like a banquet.
The first text he cracked open was thick, the pages yellowed but neat. The header at the top of the chapter read: Hand Signs: The Foundation of Shinobi Arts.
His eyes darted over the words, drinking them in.
Hand signs are gestures ninjas make with their fingers and hands before or during use of ninjutsu, genjutsu, and many secret arts. They are not needed for taijutsu. They were invented by Indra Ōtsutsuki, who sought to help others summon and mould chakra effectively.
Satoru's eyebrows arched. 'Indra, huh? Right from the start. So the anime didn't exaggerate; these things are basically humanity's training wheels for chakra.'
He read on.
Hand signs serve several functions in chakra manipulation:
Moulding chakra; Activating techniques; Reducing error and controlling power; Serving as a way for others to predict intentions.
Satoru leaned back slightly, tapping a finger against his lips.
'This means the goal isn't just to memorise them but to outgrow them, like how Tobirama could reduce forty-plus signs into one. Efficiency. Precision. That's what I'll need.'
His gaze dropped back to the page, where diagrams of the twelve basic hand seals were illustrated with neat brush strokes: Rat, Ox, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Ram, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, Boar. Each was accompanied by notes on finger positioning and the kinds of jutsu that often relied on them.
As he flipped the page, more details spilt forth. Variations, one-handed seals, advanced usage, even the rare techniques that bypassed seals altogether. He already knew about Haku's kekkei genkai use of single-hand seals; about how Tobirama could perform Water Dragon Bullet with a single sign instead of forty-four; about the Rasengan's lack of seals entirely.
Satoru's mind buzzed. 'So theoretically… if hands aren't mandatory, could you substitute? What about feet? Toes? Elbows? Imagine kicking an enemy and activating a fireball jutsu simultaneously.'
The thought made him snort into his sleeve.
But quickly, his mind sharpened again. 'No, focus. Even if it's possible, that's way down the line. First, I have to master the basics.'
He scribbled mental notes as he read on.
Of course, there were some limitations & trade-offs when using hand signs. Satoru summarised them as: More hand signs = more time; more exposure to danger; Reducing signs = requires intense training and control; Insufficient chakra = failed jutsu or misfires; Incompatible chakra nature = weaker results.
Satoru exhaled slowly. 'Exactly as I suspected. It's not just about knowing the dance steps; it's about the rhythm of your chakra. If you can't control the flow, you're doomed. Even with the right seals, without mastery, you're just flailing your fingers like an idiot before someone sticks a kunai in you.'
He sat back, rubbing his temples. The sheer depth of information was overwhelming, but exhilarating too.
A small smile tugged at his lips. 'At least the system makes sense. You start with the long sequence of seals, training wheels. Then you cut down, refine, until you hardly need them at all. Like learning math tables—you memorise, practice, and then instinct takes over.'
Flipping another page, he read about observers being able to predict techniques by recognising seals. The Sharingan was mentioned specifically, with its ability to read and copy hand signs mid-combat.
Satoru's eyes narrowed slightly. 'So my Sharingan is both a blessing and a curse here. I could copy signs, predict opponents… but they could do the same to me. Which means I need to be unpredictable, faster, and smoother. The last thing I want is someone reading me like an open book in the middle of a fight.'
He imagined Itachi's cool gaze locking on him, lips barely twitching before anticipating his every move. The thought sent a small chill down his spine.
Closing the heavy text for a moment, he stared at the stack of books still waiting.
The titles mocked him with their cheerful practicality: "'Meditation for Brats: How to Sit Still for Five Minutes,'" "'The Beginner's Guide to Not Channelling Chakra Into the Toilet by Mistake,'" and "'Flow Like Water: A Manual for Aspiring Show-offs.'"
He almost laughed aloud, but caught himself just in time. The librarian was still stationed at his desk, eagle-eyed, as if he could sense humour from across the room.
Satoru leaned forward again, pulling another book toward him. This one was thinner, but filled with diagrams of chakra pathways. His gaze skimmed the lines, tracing the body's coils and nodes. It confirmed what Nono had already taught him in fragments, but with far more detail.
Still, his thoughts kept circling back to the hand signs. To the foundation of ninjutsu itself. His mind spun with possibilities.
'What if I created my own sequence? What if I trained myself to channel chakra through unconventional gestures? Could I bluff an enemy into expecting a Fireball, only to release a Genjutsu? What if… no, that's too advanced. But still. The potential is there.'
He tapped a finger on the desk rhythmically, imitating the sequence of Rat → Tiger → Boar. His lips pursed in thought.
'I'll need to practice until the movements are muscle memory. Until my hands move faster than thought. Because in this world, the fraction of a second is the difference between victory and a kunai in the throat.'
The silence of the library pressed in around him, but he hardly noticed. His thoughts were too loud.
Finally, he sat back and stared at the pile of books, then out the window where the last of the sunlight was fading into amber dusk.
"What jutsu should I even start with?" he whispered under his breath, voice barely audible. His gaze sharpened, the hunger for knowledge lighting his eyes. "Fire? Genjutsu? Something practical like clones? … No. I need to think carefully. Every step counts."
His fingers tightened around the edge of the book. 'This is it. The real work starts now.'
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