Naruto: Kagurazaka

Yesterday, Shisui became my mentor. Not exactly what I had in mind when I planned to keep a low profile. Having someone like him watching and guiding me means less freedom and more scrutiny. I sighed. With him around, it's like trying to outmaneuver a hawk while tied to its talons.

That thought carried me to our meeting place: Ichiraku Ramen. Shisui sat across from me, grinning like the carefree troublemaker he clearly enjoyed being. His enthusiasm clashed with my mood as he inhaled his steaming bowl of ramen like he hadn't eaten in days. I twirled the noodles in my bowl, letting the aroma fill my senses, while my mind kept running circles around how restrictive this mentorship would be.

"Not eating, Yuuki?" Shisui's cheerful voice cut through my brooding.

I glanced up, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "I'm eating. Just not at your speed."

His grin widened, and he leaned back, resting an arm on the counter. "You know, complaining silently while eating makes the food taste bitter."

"Funny. I wasn't complaining out loud." I slurped my noodles with exaggerated care.

"That tone says otherwise," he quipped.

I didn't bother arguing. Instead, I focused on my ramen, letting its warmth distract me. But, of course, Shisui didn't know the meaning of silence.

"So, got any big goals? World domination? Becoming Hokage? Or are you just here to brood stylishly while eating ramen?"

I paused mid-slurp, narrowing my eyes at him. "None of the above." Though world domination sounds quite tempting, but If I could, I would like to do that in some other world.

"Ah, mysterious type, huh? Bet you've got some hidden ambitions you're not sharing. That's okay. Everyone loves a little mystery." He waved his chopsticks like a magician revealing a trick.

For a moment, I considered humoring him with an outlandish answer, but Shisui didn't seem like the type to leave a topic alone once he latched onto it. Instead, I kept quiet and let him fill the air.

"So," he started again, eyes gleaming with curiosity, "you've got a unique style, Yuuki. Hyugas are all about the Gentle Fist, but you? You're not quite following the script, are you?"

He was fishing, and I knew it. "Scripts are for actors."

He laughed at that, loud and genuine, drawing a few glances from other patrons. "Fair enough. But if you're going off-script, you'd better have the skills to back it up. Lucky for you, that's where I come in."

"Monitoring and micromanaging," I muttered under my breath, finishing the last of my bowl.

Shisui leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "You know, Yuuki, you're a tough nut to crack. That's why this'll be fun."

"Fun for you, maybe," I countered.

He grinned wider. "Exactly. Fun for me. You? We'll see."

His cheerfulness grated on me, but there was no point arguing. 

Shisui leaned back, patting his stomach with exaggerated satisfaction as he finished his third bowl of ramen. "Ah, nothing beats a hearty meal. Don't you think, Yuuki?"

I glanced at the clean bowls stacked in front of him. "For you, maybe. Watching you inhale three bowls like that makes me lose my appetite."

He grinned, reaching for the bill. "You're just jealous of my refined culinary appreciation. Besides, it's my treat today. You can thank me later."

Thought Communication Translation: "Gotta make a good impression. This kid's an enigma, but I'll crack him eventually."

I said nothing, letting his chatter slide as I activated my magic perception. His chakra was steady but subtly probing, like he was trying to feel out my boundaries.

As he handed over the payment, I asked, "Why are you still calling me Yuuki?"

He paused, raising an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I? It's the name you gave me when we met, isn't it?"

Thought Communication Translation: "Let's see how much he'll share about that name."

"That was before you knew I was Hyuga," I pointed out. "Everyone else calls me Akai."

"And yet you introduced yourself as Yuuki," he said, shrugging. "If that's the name you want to go by, who am I to argue? Besides, I think it suits you better. Akai sounds so... proper. Yuuki feels more... you."

Thought Communication Translation: "He's not a traditionalist, that much is clear."

"That's a weird way of thinking," I muttered.

He laughed as we stepped outside. "Maybe. But you strike me as the kind of guy who doesn't care much for tradition anyway."

We walked in relative silence for a while before Shisui broke it. "So, how come you're not into the Gentle Fist?"

"You're a Hyuga," he continued when I didn't respond. "It's kind of your clan's thing. But you don't seem interested in it. Why's that?"

"It's just not my thing," I replied evenly.

"Not your thing?" He raised an eyebrow. "But it's one of the most effective close-combat techniques out there. With the Byakugan, it's practically unbeatable."

Thought Communication Translation: "Doesn't care about tradition or even power? What's his angle?"

"Maybe," I said. "But just because it's effective doesn't mean I have to like it." 

And it's not like if you use a taijutsu you won't be thrown into the end of space and time or Rimuru-san's powers would you?

Shisui chuckled. "Fair point. Still, you've gotta admit it's impressive. Taking out someone's chakra network with a single touch? That's next-level precision."

"It is," I lied.

"Then why not give it another shot?" he pressed. "Hiashi-sama specifically asked me to mentor you, you know. That's a big deal."

"So the clan head personally asked you to teach me the Gentle Fist?"

"Yep," he said. "Apparently, he's worried you're not reaching your potential. Figured someone like me could give you a push in the right direction."

Thought Communication Translation: "He's not surprised. This kid's harder to read than I thought."

I kept my gaze straight ahead as the Uchiha compound came into view. "And you agreed because...?"

"Why not?" Shisui grinned. "A chance to mentor a mysterious Hyuga who doesn't act like a Hyuga? How could I pass that up?"

I said nothing, filing away his thoughts for later consideration.

"Well," Shisui said, his tone light again, "whether you like it or not, I think you should at least give the Gentle Fist another shot. You never know—it might grow on you."

"I'll think about it," I said flatly.

He grinned. "That's the spirit! Come on, we're almost there."

The path curved gently, the sound of rushing water growing louder with every step. It wasn't long before we reached the spot—a serene clearing by a river, framed by tall trees and dappled with golden sunlight filtering through the leaves. Shisui stopped near the edge of the river, stretching his arms like he'd just arrived at a vacation resort.

"Here we are!" he announced, grinning. "Pretty nice, right?"

I had to admit, the place wasn't bad. The air was fresh, the river reflected the sky like a mirror, and it was far enough from the village that it felt secluded. But I wasn't in the mood to admire the scenery.

"So, what now?" I asked, crossing my arms. "You're not seriously going to try and teach me the Gentle Fist, are you?"

"Why not?" he replied cheerfully, turning to face me. "You might surprise yourself and actually enjoy it."

I groaned. "Let me get this straight. An Uchiha—known for their Sharingan and flashy fire jutsu—is supposed to teach me, a Hyuga, how to poke people with my fingers and disrupt their chakra? Makes perfect sense."

Shisui burst out laughing, doubling over as if I'd just told the funniest joke he'd ever heard. "You're hilarious, Yuuki! But hey, I'm just doing what I was asked to do."

"Right," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "So much for being a mentor. What exactly did the clan head say to you?"

Before I could press him further, Shisui reached into his pouch and pulled out a neatly rolled scroll. He held it up like it was a prize he'd won at a festival. "Ta-da!"

I blinked, my expression flattening into a deadpan stare. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Not kidding," he said, his grin widening. "Hiashi-sama was very specific. He said, and I quote, 'Give this to Yuuki and ensure he studies it.' So here you go." He held out the scroll like it was a sacred relic.

I stared at the scroll in his hand, then back at his face, my lips twitching with the faintest hint of a smirk. "That's it? You're calling yourself a mentor, and your entire role is to hand me a scroll?"

Shisui shrugged, unbothered. "Hey, I'm just following orders. Besides, you don't need me hovering over you while you read. Think of it as self-guided learning."

"Self-guided learning," I repeated dryly. "Wow, so inspiring." I was actually curious to what he was going to teach me, but it end up being this.

Thought Communication Translation: "Yep, he's not thrilled. But hey, it's better than nothing. Maybe he'll actually read it."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. This whole mentorship arrangement was shaping up to be even less useful than I'd anticipated. Still, I reached out and took the scroll.

"Fine," I said, tucking the scroll under my arm. "But don't expect me to be thrilled about it."

Shisui's grin didn't falter. "I wouldn't dream of it. But hey, if you've got any questions, I'm here to help! You know, as your mentor." He winked, clearly enjoying my irritation.

I glanced at the river, wondering if throwing the scroll in would be worth the lecture I'd get later. Probably not. "Sure. Thanks for the... mentorship."

Shisui clapped me on the shoulder, his laughter echoing through the clearing. "Anytime, Yuuki. Anytime."

I was being sarcastic you fool.

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Shisui grinned as he stood, stretching his arms over his head. "Well, Yuuki, I'm off for some dango in the village. Don't work too hard, okay?"

"Noted," I replied dryly, already aware he was going to vanish he didn't even leave a puff of smoke to hide his shunshin.

As expected, Shisui disappeared with Shunshin, he now left, leaving only the faintest ripple in the air where he once stood. I glanced at the scroll he had so enthusiastically handed me, the weight of it barely registering in my hand.

"Let's see what's so important," I muttered, unrolling it.

The scroll's contents were about as expected: a detailed explanation of the Gentle Fist technique, complete with intricate illustrations of the human body. Each figure was meticulously marked with nodes—361 in total—indicating the tenketsu points scattered across the chakra network.

I skimmed through the text:

The Gentle Fist is a hand-to-hand combat style that damages an opponent by targeting their Chakra Pathway System. By injecting precise amounts of chakra into an opponent's tenketsu, a practitioner can disrupt or seal their chakra flow, potentially incapacitating them entirely.

The Byakugan enhances this technique, allowing practitioners to see the chakra network and target these points with surgical precision. Even a light touch can cause significant internal damage, hence the name "Gentle" Fist.

There were diagrams of attacks aimed at vital areas—heart, lungs, and even smaller nodes in the arms and legs. The scroll detailed how disrupting these could disable an opponent's jutsu or paralyze entire limbs.

I sighed, leaning back against a tree. All this effort... just to stop someone from using chakra.

Why go through all this trouble? Back in the cardinal world, I could just use a wide-area anti-magic field. Simpler, more efficient.

But then again, chakra wasn't quite the same as magicules. Anti-magic zones were effective because most monsters relied heavily on magicules, leaving them helpless when those were suppressed. Chakra, on the other hand, was more akin to mana—internal and intertwined with the body. Disabling it wasn't as straightforward.

Still, I couldn't muster much excitement for the Gentle Fist. I'd seen techniques like this before in the cardinal world, where legends and martial arts often revolved around striking vital points. The chaos world that mixed spiritual and material elements had similar methods, though they were often flashier than practical.

I tossed the scroll onto the ground beside me, uninterested. "This technique is nothing but precision strikes with extra steps."

Instead, my attention shifted to something more intriguing—my Anti-Skill. Activating it felt like flexing a mental muscle, and as the skill hummed to life, I turned my focus inward.

Anti-Skill wasn't a "skill" in the traditional sense. It was more like a spiritual constitution, something deeply ingrained in my very being. With it active, I could suppress any spiritual or magical force I came into contact with—chakra, mana, magicules. Anything. The energy I negated could even be repurposed, counteracting kinetic energy in close combat.

I glanced at my hand, flexing my fingers as a faint, invisible ripple spread outward. "It's not perfect," I murmured.

The limitations of Anti-Skill were clear. It required direct contact—no transmitting it through weapons or external tools. And while it could shut down most abilities, it faltered against attacks with dual forces. Back in the cardinal world, that meant techniques that combined magic and haki. Chakra here might have similar loopholes.

I reached down, picking up a small pebble from the ground. Infusing it with chakra, I tossed it into the air and caught it again, letting Anti-Skill dissolve the energy. The chakra dissipated instantly, leaving the stone inert in my hand.

"Practical," I noted. "But limited."

The biggest flaw, of course, was the requirement for physical contact. If I couldn't touch my opponent, Anti-Skill was useless. Just like the gentle fist, except it's instant. That limitation didn't exist with anti-magic fields or wide-area suppressive techniques.

Still, it wasn't without its charm. The thought of sealing someone's chakra mid-fight and turning it against them held a certain appeal. If nothing else, it was a weapon in my arsenal.

I glanced at the scroll again, the illustrations of the tenketsu points staring back at me. Even with Anti-Skill, the knowledge could be useful. Understanding the mechanics of chakra disruption might give me an edge, even if I had no intention of adopting the Gentle Fist itself.

Folding the scroll back up, I placed it neatly beside me. "Shisui might be onto something," I muttered, though I wasn't about to admit that to him directly.

For now, I had more important things to focus on. Anti-Skill needed refinement, and if I was going to deal with chakra-based enemies, I needed to test its limits.

My gaze shifted to the river nearby, its surface rippling gently in the breeze. "This might take a while," I said to myself, standing and brushing the dirt from my hands. "But at least it's more interesting than reading that scroll."

I clenched my hand into a fist, watching it with a curious gaze. "We might be able to work it out somehow," I muttered to myself. Despite the thought, I couldn't bring myself to care about the Gentle Fist anymore. It wasn't interesting.

Letting out a small sigh, I let my hand drop to my side. My eyes wandered back to the river, the breeze rustling through the trees around me. The tranquility didn't last long.

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A sudden gust of wind disrupted the calm as Shisui reappeared, his usual flashy Shunshin signaling his return. A bag of dango dangled from one hand, and he had another stick in his mouth.

"Hey, Yuuki! Sorry if I took too long," he said, sounding as cheerful as ever. He pulled the stick from his mouth with a grin. "I ran into Itachi on the way and got caught up chatting."

I didn't respond, my gaze locked on the river.

His voice trailed off, and when I finally glanced at him, I noticed the way he froze. His eyes were wide, his grin vanishing as he stared past me at the water.

"What... What happened here?!"

The dango stick in his hand slipped to the ground. He didn't seem to notice.

I followed his gaze to the river. The once-straight flow now had a sharp, unnatural horizontal line running through it, perfectly bisecting the stream and creating what looked like a massive "+" symbol in the water.

"You're asking me?" I said flatly, meeting his stunned expression.

"Did you... Did you learn the Gentle Fist already?!"

"I did."

His shock deepened. "What part of gentle in 'Gentle Fist' did you actually learn, Yuuki?!"

I shrugged, my voice as calm as ever. "The defect kind."

For a moment, he just stared at me, his expression a mix of confusion and something else I couldn't quite place. His usual cheer seemed to falter as he sighed and scratched the back of his head.

Thought communication translation: "Defect... now that he mention it wasn't he---"

"You know... I was thinking of teaching you the Uchiha fighting style if you weren't interested in the Gentle Fist," he muttered, his tone quieter than before. "But this? This is taking it way too far."

I didn't bother responding, though I couldn't help noting the subtle shift in his thoughts. He wasn't really mad—more like... disappointed. Or maybe confused.

He let out another sigh, slumping slightly. "At this rate, I feel like I'm not even a teacher. Maybe I'm just here to be your emotional support instead."

I kept my expression neutral, though in my head, I silently agreed.

Shisui shifted the bag of dango in his hand and held it up toward me. "Want a dango?"

I glanced at the bag for a moment before nodding. "Sure."

He tossed me a stick, and I caught it effortlessly. Biting into the sweet treat, I let the sugary flavor settle on my tongue as Shisui plopped down beside me.

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To be continued.