NOTE: "Speech" 'Thoughts'
_________
Have you heard of the work known as NARUTO?
It was a ninja manga designed for a young male audience that eventually exploded into a worldwide phenomenon. I considered myself a casual reader, having navigated through a significant portion of the story, and I thoroughly enjoyed the journey even as a sense of melancholy settled over me when the final chapter concluded.
Still, certain plot points felt illogical, and several creative choices continued to gnaw at my mind.
The most glaring issue was the treatment of Rock Lee during the story's conclusion.
When he first appeared during the Chunin Exams arc, he was introduced as a hot-headed, hardworking youth who relied exclusively on taijutsu. He quickly became a fan favorite, engaging in some of the series' most iconic and memorable confrontations.
Despite his total inability to utilize ninjutsu or genjutsu, and a lack of innate genius even in his preferred field, he achieved the impossible through sheer, concentrated effort. By refining his physical prowess to its absolute limit, he managed to fight Uchiha Sasuke, the protagonist's gifted rival, to a standstill.
His momentum only grew during his desperate struggles against Gaara of the Desert and Kimimaro.
However, as the narrative progressed, his significance seemed to dwindle. His subsequent performances lacked that initial spark and failed to leave a lasting impression.
Perhaps my memory simply failed me, but it felt as though Guy-sensei eventually emerged as the undisputed superior, casting a shadow so large that Lee lost his opportunity to truly shine.
While it was undeniable that Guy-sensei was an incredible character, a nagging question remained in the back of my mind.
'Why Rock Lee?'
In short, this is the narrative of how I found myself existing within the Hidden Leaf Village, inhabiting the life of Rock Lee.
"I will become a magnificent ninja by focusing entirely on taijutsu!"
When I first voiced this declaration, a chorus of laughter erupted from those around me. This occurred during the initial sorting when I began my tenure at the Academy.
The consensus was clear: since Lee could not manifest chakra into techniques, the idea of him becoming a shinobi was deemed an absurdity.
I found that these insults did not sting as they might have for someone else; I had heard the same tired phrases so many times that they had lost their edge.
"Just you wait! I shall shatter your common sense!"
In truth, I was not the original Rock Lee. I was once an ordinary individual from modern-day Earth who had somehow been reincarnated into or taken possession of this body.
Regardless of how I arrived, I felt a heavy responsibility to ensure that Lee's dreams reached their fruition.
~~
"First, I must fortify my physique, and then..."
I focused on chakra control. It served as the bedrock of a shinobi's power and the primary source of their strength, yet it remained a mysterious, ethereal force that I struggled to fully comprehend.
"There we go..."
After years of grueling practice, I finally reached a milestone where I could walk vertically up a wall. It was frustrating to acknowledge that Naruto and the others had mastered such basics with such speed; they truly were monsters of talent.
Even here, the vast disparity in natural ability left me feeling annoyed, but I knew there was no utility in remaining sulky.
"Yosh!"
As I dropped back to the solid earth, I gripped a water balloon in my palm and forced the internal fluid to swirl.
"Ngh...!"
'The water is spinning violently!' I thought, focusing every ounce of my will. 'Now, I must randomly shift the direction of the rotating chakra!'
A few seconds passed before the water balloon erupted with a sharp, echoing bang.
"...I have finally cleared the first stage."
'At this trajectory, it will likely take several years to perfect the entire technique,' I reflected silently.
The Rasengan. It was well-known as Uzumaki Naruto's signature technique, and while it was notoriously difficult to master, it functioned as an incredibly potent move that bypassed conventional defenses.
I pursued this specific technique because, as far as I could determine, it was the only ninjutsu that Rock Lee could realistically execute. To be precise, it was not a traditional ninjutsu at all. The Rasengan represented the absolute pinnacle of chakra control. It required no hand seals, making the process fundamentally similar to walking on water, albeit with the complexity of performing that feat with over a hundred limbs at varying depths simultaneously.
"It is a supreme technique that even someone like me, who is barred from ninjutsu, can wield."
The utility of the move was undeniable. Even if I lacked the ability to manifest ninjutsu through hand seals, I still possessed the capacity to manipulate my internal chakra. Without that core ability, I would never have been able to access the Eight Gates or run across the surface of a lake. I spent a great deal of time theorizing why standard ninjutsu remained out of my reach.
I considered three primary possibilities. First, perhaps I lacked the talent for controlling chakra entirely. Second, there could be a mechanical failure in my execution of hand seals. Third, my chakra coils might be incapable of performing the necessary conversion required to activate a technique.
The first hypothesis was easily discarded; since I could walk on walls and manipulate water balloons, chakra control was clearly possible, even if it required more time for me than for others.
The second theory was also debunked after an Academy instructor spent hours meticulously checking my hand seals and running multiple experiments to ensure my form was perfect. This led me to the third conclusion: even with correct seals, nothing happened. My chakra coils likely possessed a unique mutation that prevented the conversion of raw energy into ninjutsu.
Therefore, I was locked out of ninjutsu and genjutsu. The only extraordinary power available to the original Lee was the Eight Gates Formation, which was essentially a specialized form of chakra control. It involved forcing chakra to circulate with wild intensity to bypass the body's natural limiters. However, calling it "control" felt like an exaggeration.
'I do not yet possess the courage to attempt the Eight Gates.'
'With my current physical conditioning, I could likely force open the Gate of Opening, but I have no knowledge of how to deactivate it or safely arrest the flow without professional guidance.'
'A technique that carries a high probability of self-destruction is too daunting for me to handle alone. I was merely an ordinary man in my previous life, after all. In this regard, the original Lee possessed a bravery I lack; he would have leaped into that fire without a moment of hesitation or regard for his own safety.'
While the Eight Gates were undeniably powerful and allowed Lee to survive numerous trials in the original timeline, that path only truly opened once he gained a mentor. Until then, I placed my faith in the Rasengan. I believed that through pure, obsessive chakra manipulation, I could recreate the sphere.
My confidence stemmed from the detailed descriptions provided in the manga and anime during Naruto's training; he had achieved the form by strictly manipulating the flow of energy. While it demanded a massive reservoir of chakra and mine might never match the potency of the original, I simply wanted to expand my offensive repertoire. I needed a decisive strike that did not rely on the suicidal nature of the Gates.
My memories of the series were somewhat hazy, and it proved difficult to recall the precise nuances of a story I had consumed so long ago.
"All I require is effort."
Muttering this to myself, I began a grueling run through the village while simultaneously working on the second stage of my training: bursting rubber balloons. This method provided a distinct advantage, as any onlooker would assume I was merely strengthening my grip while performing cardio. While a child practicing high-level forbidden arts might draw unwanted attention, this looked like simple, mundane hard work.
Any shinobi with a discerning eye might have noticed the anomaly, but the lack of interference suggested that no one was watching me closely—or perhaps the training method for the Rasengan was so rare that they failed to recognize the objective.
Regardless, I pushed forward with grim determination, making incremental progress every day.
"You are enjoying the springtime of youth!"
As I was repeatedly striking a training log at my usual spot, a burly, imposing man who had been standing silently behind me suddenly spoke.
"...Yes. I am not certain if it qualifies as youth, but I am training."
'Wait... it's Might Guy! I never imagined I would see him in the flesh, and the intensity he radiates is staggering!'
"Hahaha! If the act of training to grow stronger is not youth, then the word has no meaning!" He beamed, his energy reminiscent of an overzealous fitness instructor. "You are working up a magnificent sweat! But... are you not pushing yourself too far? Any further exertion will only become counterproductive, young man."
His tone shifted abruptly, his voice now laced with genuine concern.
'Was he always this perceptive? I cannot recall if this mirrors his original personality, so I have no way of knowing if he has changed.'
"I must work three times, no, five times harder than anyone else."
'Because I possess no natural talent,' I added silently as I continued to drive my shin into the wood. My legs had long since gone numb, but I welcomed the sensation as a sign of building muscle mass.
"Hmm... and why do you strive so intensely?"
"To prove that one can become a shinobi even without innate talent. I want to embarrass those who take pleasure in mocking me."
It was not a desire for petty revenge. Rather, I sought the satisfaction of looking back at the obstacles intended to keep me down and knowing they had only served as fuel for my journey through the darkest days. I was not entirely sure if I expressed that sentiment adequately.
"Yes... youth!"
He laughed boisterously and stepped closer to my side.
"I am Might Guy! The Blue Beast of the Hidden Leaf and a Jonin!"
"Rock Lee. Academy student."
I continued my exercise even as we exchanged names. Perhaps it was rude to keep training during an introduction, but since he had interrupted my session, I figured the breach of etiquette was mutual.
"That is the spirit, Lee! But why must you torture your physical form in this manner?"
"The reason is obvious," I replied. "I lack stamina, strength, skill, and chakra."
"Nonsense! If you continue at this pace, you will shatter your health in short order!"
Before I could process his movement, he had forced my leg down and ended my drill. It was a sobering display of a Jonin's caliber; he had moved with such fluid speed that I hadn't even registered the intent. Guy-sensei's eyes widened slightly when he realized I had tracked his movement.
"Did you actually see that just now?" he asked, looking genuinely surprised.
"Being able to see it is of no consequence if I lack the speed to react to it."
"I was completely defeated..." he remarked, though he did not sound frustrated.
I could not bring myself to agree with his assessment. He had not been exerting himself in the slightest, and there was no honor in simply watching a man who wasn't trying. What value did my vision hold? My eyes might have followed his silhouette, but by the time my brain processed the action, the event had already concluded. I had failed to muster even a single defensive reaction, which only served to highlight my own insignificance.
"You have been blessed with wonderful eyes," Guy noted with a firm nod. "But! You must not overwork yourself!"
The lecture began in earnest. I had always viewed him as a somewhat eccentric figure, but in this moment, he reminded me of a stern mathematics teacher.
"...Therefore, the element you truly lack is rest!"
As his sermon finally wound down, the sun began to dip below the horizon. My training for the day was effectively over.
"I understand. I shall be more cautious in the future."
'I will simply wait until you are no longer watching me.'
'Did he just read my mind?'
"Very well! If you wish to train in the future, seek me out! I shall oversee your development!" Guy flashed a signature thumbs-up, his teeth gleaming white in the twilight.
While the offer was monumental, it was not something I had actively sought.
"Why would you go to such lengths? I am not even a genin yet..." I muttered.
"I wonder why myself... perhaps it is because I felt a certain kinship with you. Besides, if I do not supervise you, you will likely attempt something reckless again," he continued with a grin. "It is beneficial to have a mentor. Especially for a boy like you, Lee."
Seeing him laugh with such genuine warmth left me momentarily speechless.
"Is that so...?"
I found it impossible to give an immediate answer. This was an opportunity beyond my wildest dreams, yet a seed of doubt remained. If I followed the original path exactly, I feared I would never surpass the limitations I had seen in the manga. The original Lee was clearly shadowed by Might Guy, and I lacked the inherent willpower that the original possessed. My only unique advantage was the Rasengan.
It was a precarious crossroads.
'Would accepting his tutelage simply tether me to a predetermined fate?'
Noticing my hesitation despite the stroke of good fortune, Guy spoke up again.
"Well, you do not have to decide this instant! I am certain you have other interests to pursue! The best thing for children is to play and enjoy their childhood!" He laughed, though his eyes remained kind.
I realized I had made him worry.
"No, thank you. Please allow me to consider the offer for a time."
I bowed my head respectfully. Even though a powerful Jonin had offered to mentor me, an incredible honour for a student who hadn't even graduated. I felt I needed to be sure.
"Do not give it another thought. I have no intention of pestering someone who has already begun to carve their own path. I shall only intervene if I catch you doing something as reckless as today," he added playfully.
"Thank you."
I bowed deeply once more, filled with a mixture of apology and gratitude.
"It is no trouble at all! Just inform me if you change your mind! Now, it is time to head home," he urged, and I finally raised my head.
"Yes... until next time."
I began the walk home as the world grew dark. My gait was unsteady, my muscles screaming from the day's exertion, but the fatigue did not feel burdensome. Perhaps it was the knowledge that someone finally supported my lonely efforts, or perhaps it was simply the novelty of speaking with an adult who felt truly dependable. I wasn't entirely sure of the cause, but for the first time in this world, I didn't feel so alone.
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Note: This is an experimental piece