Satoru knelt in the dew-soaked grass, fastening the last of the ankle weights Sayuri had brought the day before. The metal was cold and unyielding, biting into his skin as he adjusted the straps. He tested the fit with a flex of his leg; the resistance was immediate, heavier than expected. He could already feel the faint strain it placed on his muscles.
Beside him, Ren sat cross-legged and frowning, wrestling with a tangled strap that refused to stay in place. He muttered under his breath, the sound halfway between complaint and defeat.
"Who designed these stupid things? It's like they're trying to tie me instead."
Satoru glanced over, suppressing a grin. "You're putting them on backwards."
Ren blinked, looking down, then up at him with indignation. "There's a backward way to put on a lump of metal?"
"Apparently," Satoru said, amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. He shifted closer, kneeling to help. "Here; pull this strap through the lower slot, not over it. You'll balance the weight better that way."
Ren sighed but followed his lead. The two worked quietly for a moment, the sounds of leather creaking and metal buckles clicking filling the still air. A lone bird trilled from somewhere in the trees, its song thin and distant.
After a pause, Ren muttered, "How do you even know how to put this on? You sound like you've done this before."
Satoru chuckled lightly, tightening the last strap. "Picked it up from some friends back at the academy."
Ren blinked, curiosity flickering across his face. "Wait; I thought you were an orphan like me?"
Satoru hesitated briefly before nodding. "I am. I just happened to meet some interesting people along the way who showed me how to use this stuff."
Ren's expression brightened instantly. "Interesting, huh? Can I meet these interesting people, too?"
Satoru smirked faintly, a glint of nostalgia flashing in his eyes. "One day. Trust me, you'll know when you do."
Ren grinned but didn't press further. The faint tension in Satoru's tone made him sense the conversation had grazed something deeper — something not meant for now.
Mariko, silent as usual, adjusted her own weights nearby. Her movements were neat, methodical, and almost graceful despite the awkward metal. The faint mist clung to her hair, giving her a soft, halo-like sheen. She didn't say anything, but her gaze occasionally flicked toward the two boys — watchful, reserved, calculating.
Before anyone could speak again, a voice sliced cleanly through the morning calm.
"Are you three done putting those on?"
The sound was neither loud nor harsh, yet it commanded immediate attention. Sayuri stood a few meters away, her posture immaculate, framed against the mist like a painting come to life. Her dark cloak hung loosely from her shoulders, its edges fluttering faintly in the breeze. There was an almost ethereal quality to her — calm, poised, and quietly dangerous.
All three genin snapped upright at once. "Yes, Sayuri-sensei!"
Sayuri's expression remained unreadable, though the faintest shadow of approval crossed her face. "Good. Before we begin, you should know what the coming months will look like."
The trio exchanged quick glances — Ren's eyes wide with curiosity, Mariko's steady but attentive, Satoru's narrowed in focus. Sayuri took a slow breath, her tone level but firm.
"You'll be focusing on the basics until I decide you've reached proper genin level. Only then will you begin taking on missions."
Ren's face lit up instantly. "So we will go on missions later!"
Sayuri's lips curved into a small, sardonic smirk. "If you survive my training first."
Ren's grin faltered. "...Right. That part."
Mariko raised her hand slightly, her tone respectful but curious. "What exactly do you mean by 'the basics,' Sayuri-sensei?"
Sayuri clasped her hands behind her back, gaze sweeping over them like a quiet storm assessing the shore. "Each day will begin with physical training, followed by a short break, then chakra control practice, and we'll end with light sparring."
Satoru felt a chill crawl down his spine at the word "light." Something in the way she said it made his stomach tighten.
'Something tells me her idea of 'light' and mine aren't the same,' he thought. He cleared his throat, masking a nervous laugh with a cough.
Sayuri continued as though she hadn't noticed.
"During physical training, you'll wear those weights, and your chakra will be sealed."
Ren's eyes went wide. "Wait, sealed? As in, no chakra reinforcement at all?"
"Precisely." Her tone didn't change, but a faint gleam of amusement flickered in her eyes. "You'll only be allowed to reinforce your bodies once you've built enough resistance. Until then, you'll adapt the old-fashioned way."
Mariko frowned slightly. "That sounds… impossible."
Sayuri shrugged elegantly. "Only if you're weak. You'll adapt."
The words weren't cruel, but they cut cleanly — unadorned truth sharpened by confidence.
Ren groaned quietly. "You say that like we won't be crawling home after day one."
Sayuri tilted her head just slightly, her lips curving in a way that was neither smile nor smirk; something between acknowledgement and challenge. "You might. But you'll crawl faster tomorrow."
Satoru's mouth twitched. That dry edge in her tone carried a kind of strange reassurance, as though she believed pain was proof of progress.
Sayuri paced slowly in front of them, her movements fluid and deliberate. The mist parted around her as if unwilling to touch her. "After that comes chakra control training," she continued. "I'll be teaching you a few of my methods, not the watered-down academy exercises."
Satoru perked up immediately, curiosity sparking behind his calm expression. "What kind of chakra control exercises, Sensei?"
Her eyes flicked toward him, faint amusement dancing in their depths. "Since you asked…"
Without warning, she drew two kunai from her pouch. The blades gleamed faintly in the morning light. The genin watched as she planted both kunai tip-down into the ground before her. Then, without a word, she lowered herself into a push-up position; her palms hovering just above the kunai handles.
Ren opened his mouth to question it, but stopped as chakra shimmered faintly around Sayuri's hands. The air vibrated softly, a low hum of energy; the grass beneath her palms flattened under invisible pressure.
Then, slowly, she began to move.
Her hands lowered until the chakra barrier between skin and steel barely existed, and then pushed upward, repelled by her own chakra. The motion repeated rhythmically: shhh—thump, shhh—thump. Each movement was controlled and precise, the kunai trembling faintly beneath her as she maintained perfect equilibrium.
Satoru felt his eyes widen. The technique wasn't just about strength — it was refinement, discipline, and an unyielding command over one's chakra flow.
Sayuri spoke evenly while still in motion, voice unshaken. "This version is advanced; it develops chakra density, control precision, and subconscious defence reflexes. You'll start simpler — chakra push-ups — before working your way to this."
She flipped both kunai upward with a sharp twist of her wrist mid-push, catching them effortlessly and straightening to her feet in one fluid motion. Dust swirled faintly around her sandals as she brushed off her hands.
Ren blinked, mouth agape. "That's supposed to be the simple version?!"
Sayuri smiled faintly, an expression that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It will be… eventually."
Mariko stared at the ground, as though already trying to calculate the chakra output needed for such control. Satoru, meanwhile, watched Sayuri closely — fascinated not just by the demonstration but by the subtle aura that surrounded her. Every movement she made carried the confidence of someone who had long since conquered both body and mind. She was deliberate; her control was total.
Sayuri turned her gaze back to them, assessing each in silence.
"You all seem eager enough," she said finally.
Satoru felt the faintest pull of unease. There was that look again — the one that promised both challenge and pain, yet carried an odd undercurrent of mentorship.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
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