[8] – No, Only Proper Change Brings the Change

The towering oak tree had long been Reiji’s chosen training spot, located at the edge of the training ground near the forest’s edge. As he approached, he exhaled deeply, centering himself. With a renewed sense of focus, he began his tree-walking exercise, carefully adjusting his chakra output.

Reiji slightly reduced the chakra into his right foot, redirecting more to his left. The difference was immediate and made his movements feel more effortless. Though he still methodically calculated each step, he managed to reach a high branch before needing to pause and rest. And on the positive side, the climb felt almost effortless compared to his previous attempts.

Noticing Sachiko standing just below, watching him closely, Reiji exhaled and began his descent. He dropped to a lower branch, then another, before finally landing on the ground with steady balance.

“I see you’ve been listening,” Sachiko said, her eyes sparkling with approval. “Much better balance.”

“Your advice about chakra flow helped a lot,” Reiji admitted, brushing bark from his hands. “I never would’ve thought to consider individual differences in chakra pathways.”

Sachiko’s expression softened. “Most students from shinobi families learn these nuances from childhood. They’re taught to feel their chakra long before they even step into the Academy. But for those of us from civilian backgrounds…” She gave a small shrug. “We have to figure it out the hard way.”

Her words resonated with Reiji. Though his situation was unique—having come from another world to inhabit this body—his challenges mirrored those of civilian-born students like Sachiko. They were both navigating the system designed for those with generational knowledge and advantages. Still, dwelling on it wouldn’t help.

“Let’s try something different today,” Sachiko suggested, gesturing enthusiastically toward the tree. Instead of just walking up, we’ll practice transitions: from ground to tree, tree to tree, and eventually,” she paused, a glint appearing in her eye, “tree to water.”

“Water walking still gives me bad flashbacks,” Reiji replied, arching an eyebrow. “Remember last time?”

“Vividly,” Sachiko confirmed with an impish grin. “But you’ll never improve if you don’t push beyond your comfort zone. Besides,” she added, patting her bag, “I brought extra towels this time.”

The following training session was grueling. Transitioning between surfaces that required maintaining chakra control while actively recalibrating it to match different textures and densities. By midday, Reiji’s chakra reserves were nearly depleted, and his clothes were soaked from multiple falls into the stream, but each attempt lasted longer than the last.

“Reiji,” Sachiko called as he dragged himself from the water for the fifth time, wringing out his sodden shirt. “Chakra responds to intention as much as concentration. Your body knows what to do. You just need to get your mind out of the way.”

Reiji frowned, pushing wet hair from his eyes. “That doesn’t make sense. Control requires focus.”

“Initial control, yes,” Sachiko conceded, offering him a towel. “But mastery comes when the technique becomes instinctive. Like walking. You don’t consciously think about the mechanics of each step, do you?”

The insight struck Reiji like lightning. The shinobi who moved effortlessly through the village—walking on walls, water, and air—were not calculating chakra output with each step. They had internalized the process to the point of unconscious competence. Exhausted but inspired, Reiji accessed his system interface’s Journal tab, creating a private space to document his progress and insights.

Chakra Control Development:

Phase 1: Conscious Mapping (Understanding pathways and flow)
Phase 2: Deliberate Practice (Focused control with awareness of imbalances)
Phase 3: Faster Response (Intuitive response)
Phase 4: Internalization (Technique becomes second nature)

He was solidly in Phase 2, but with Sachiko’s guidance, Phase 3 seemed within reach. His updated status reflected the day’s efforts:

[Attributes]
Power: 14/100
Speed: 17/100
Spirit: 33/100
Recovery: 20/100
Intelligence: 87/100
Luck (?): Unknown

[Chatora (0/4)]
Energy in all beings.
21.75% Chatora [Physical + Spiritual] (1.08/5) – Efficiency: 8.35%
6.85% Chatora [No Attribute] (0.34/5) – Efficiency: 5.20%
0% Chatora [No Attribute] (0/5)
0% Chatora [No Attribute] (0/5)

[Available Techniques: Tree Walking, Water Walking, Chatora Sensing]

[Level: 2 (500/1000 XP)]

After thanking Sachiko for another productive session, Reiji returned to his apartment to prepare for his Academy class. Today marked the start of formal Taijutsu sparring sessions.

Unlike chakra control, which leveraged his intelligence and methodical approach, physical combat demanded qualities he was still developing: Instinct and Fluid Reaction. After six months at the Academy and a few rare spars with Sachiko, he recognized that while his physical capabilities were decent or marginally above, his combat intuition still needed work.

“Every challenge is an opportunity. It’s all just practice,” he muttered, slipping into the clothes he’d bought after weeks of saving and an exhausting negotiation over price. He adjusted the wrappings around his forearms with a sense of purpose. “And in the end, experience is the only way to truly improve.”

When he arrived, the training grounds were already bustling. Students were paired based on similar physical capabilities per the instructor’s evaluations. It was a small mercy that Reiji would not face opponents like Kegawa in his first official spar.

“Gather around,” Tsubaki-sensei called, his authoritative voice cutting through the morning chatter. The Chūnin instructor wore his usual practical attire, dark hair slicked back. “Today marks an important milestone in your training. Until now, we’ve focused on individual forms and techniques. Beginning today, you’ll apply those skills against opponents.”

His gaze swept across the assembled students, lingering briefly on those who appeared thoughtful and nervous, Reiji included. “Remember, this is not about victory or defeat. It’s about growth. Watch, learn, adapt. Every spar teaches you something valuable, whether you win or lose.”

The words were meant to be reassuring, but Reiji detected a subtle qualification in his tone. While learning was indeed the primary goal, performance still mattered. This was, after all, an academy—no, military school that produced warriors, not philosophers.

Tsubaki consulted his clipboard. “First match: Reiji versus Takeo.”

Reiji stepped forward with steady resolve, studying his opponent. Takeo was not from a prominent clan, but he was naturally athletic, a civilian-born student whose physical attributes and determination had earned him respect among peers and instructors alike.

“Ready positions,” Tsubaki instructed as the two boys faced each other in the sparring circle. They formed the Seal of Confrontation, a traditional gesture that involved extending their forefinger and middle fingers and pressing them against each other directly.

Reiji adopted the basic Academy stance, mentally reviewing the forms he had practiced diligently, if mechanically. His previous life experience with boxing and grappling provided some foundation, though Academy Taijutsu contained nuances his body was still adapting to.

Across him, Takeo settled into his stance with an ease that spoke of muscle memory rather than conscious thought. His eyes narrowed with focus, but his posture remained relaxed.

[Quest Activated: First Spar]
Objective: Demonstrate your taijutsu capabilities in your first official sparring match.
Reward: +25 XP, +1.0 Power
Failure: -8 Spirit

The system notification appeared in Reiji’s peripheral vision. The potential loss of Spirit points mainly concerned him, which he had yet to understand its significance.

“Begin!” Tsubaki’s hand sliced downward.

Takeo moved almost immediately, closing the distance with a swift forward step. Reiji barely had time to block the first punch, the impact reverberating through his forearm with surprising force. He countered with a textbook palm strike, precise but his movement telegraphed his intentions. Takeo read him like an open scroll, pivoting on his lead foot and using the momentum to slam an elbow into Reiji’s ribs. Pain bloomed across his side. Sharp and Immediate.

“Adjust, Reiji!” Tsubaki-sensei called from the sidelines. “Feel the rhythm, mind your base!”

Easier said than done Reiji’s mind processed the advice even as his body struggled to implement it. His movements remained deliberate, each action lacking spontaneity. Think less, feel more, his inner voice urged, but the connection between thought and instinct remained elusive.

Takeo pressed forward with a ferocious combination—jab, cross, low kick—each strike flowing into the next. Reiji blocked the first two with forearms that were already developing bruises, but the kick caught him on the outer thigh. His leg buckled momentarily, a flash of numbness spreading from the impact point.

“Get outside his range!” someone shouted from the crowd that had formed around the sparring circle. The voice sounded like Yuki, but Reiji couldn’t spare the attention to confirm. He backpedaled, creating space, only to feel the edge of the sparring circle against his heel. A tactical error.

Takeo recognized the advantage immediately. As Takeo lunged forward with what would have been a match-ending strike, Reiji ducked and drove forward, shoulder-first into Takeo’s midsection. The unexpected counter caught Takeo off-guard. Air rushed from his lungs in an audible whoosh as both boys tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs and dust.

The moment of advantage was brief but crucial. Reiji scrambled to establish a dominant position. He managed to secure Takeo’s arm in a crude but effective lock, applying pressure to the joint.

Takeo’s face contorted. He twisted his body with a serpentine flexibility that Reiji hadn’t anticipated, somehow slipping free of the hold that should have been secure. In the same fluid motion, Takeo’s legs wrapped around Reiji’s waist, using leverage and body weight to reverse their positions.

Suddenly, Reiji found himself pinned, staring up at the cloudless sky, Takeo’s forearm pressing against his throat with calculated pressure, enough to demonstrate control without causing harm. “It’s over,” Takeo murmured, low enough that only Reiji could hear.

Reiji’s muscles tensed, gathering for one final effort. With a surge of strength, he bridged his hips upward and twisted, creating just enough space to slip his arm between their bodies.

The crowd gasped as Reiji somehow broke free, rolling away and regaining his feet in a movement that lacked grace but possessed undeniable effectiveness. His chest heaved with exertion, sweat stinging his eyes, but wasn’t done yet.

Takeo rose more smoothly, a gleam of respect now visible in his eyes.

Three aggressive advances, then a slight pause. Weight favoring his right leg. A tendency to protect his left side more carefully, perhaps nursing an old injury. Reiji analyzed.

When Takeo next advanced, Reiji was ready. Instead of retreating, he stepped into the attack, disrupting Takeo’s rhythm. His counterattack—a palm strike followed by an attempted shoulder throw—caught Takeo momentarily off-guard. For a brief, exhilarating moment, Reiji felt the momentum shift.

Then reality reasserted itself. Takeo recovered quickly, he feinted a jab that drew Reiji’s guard high, then changed levels with practiced speed, driving a shoulder into Reiji’s sternum. As they crashed to the ground again, Takeo maintained control, transitioning seamlessly into a mount position.

Reiji bucked and twisted, searching for escape routes that his opponent anticipated and closed with methodical precision. When Takeo secured the arm-bar, cranking Reiji’s limb to the threshold of pain without crossing it, there was no escape. Tsubaki’s hand sliced through the air once more.

“Match, Takeo.”

[Quest Failed: First Spar]
Performance Assessment:
Demonstrated basic defensive capabilities but insufficient offensive presence.
Penalty: –8 Spirit (25/100)

The penalty stung, both literally as Reiji’s Spirit attribute decreased and figuratively as he accepted Takeo’s outstretched hand with a smile. His body ached, minor bruises already forming where Takeo’s strikes had landed, but the physical discomfort paled compared to the sting of failure.

Still, there was something else, a flicker of understanding. His techniques were not enough. If he wanted to stand his ground, he needed more than memorized forms and calculated strikes. He needed instinct, experience, and the ability to bridge the gap between knowledge and application.

“Good match,” Takeo offered sincerely, his face flushed with exertion but bearing no animosity. “Your recovery surprised me.”

Reiji nodded, accepting the sportsmanship even as he analyzed his performance. “Your technique is really solid,” he replied, meaning it.

Tsubaki approached his clipboard in hand. “Reiji, your defensive fundamentals are solid, and that adaptation mid-match shows promise, but you’re hesitating on offensive engagement. Combat requires commitment—half-measures get shinobi killed.” His criticism was direct. “Takeo, good pressure and recovery, but you telegraph your intentions before complex combinations. A more experienced opponent would exploit that.”

Both boys nodded, accepting the assessment. As they moved off the sparring ground, Yuki intercepted Reiji with a water bottle and a sympathetic smile. “Not bad for your first real spar,” she offered.

Reiji took a long drink, and the cool water soothed his parched throat. “Not good either.” he replied, wincing as he stretched a sore shoulder.

“There always is room for improvement,” she said with a philosophical shrug. “And you learn more from losing than winning, especially in the beginning.”

As they watched the next match unfold, two students demonstrated considerably more skill than Reiji had managed. He mentally revised his training. Chakra control would remain a priority, but he could no longer afford to neglect his physical development.

“I lost,” Reiji stated flatly, his voice devoid of its usual confidence. And the system penalized me for it.

Sachiko’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of loss, her gaze studying him with a mix of curiosity and concern. “Your first spar?” she asked, her tone calm but probing.

“Yes,” Reiji replied, tightening his jaw. “I nearly had him, but…” He trailed off, the memory of the match replaying in his mind. He had been close, but his opponent had anticipated his strategy, countering with a speed and precision that left Reiji flat on his back.

Sachiko’s expression softened, though her posture remained firm. “Winning and losing aren’t what matter right now,” she said, her voice steady. “It’s about—”

“Learning, I know,” Reiji finished for her, unable to keep the frustration from his voice.

For a moment, Sachiko was silent, her gaze following his. Then, with a quiet sigh, she spoke. “Then we adjust the training plan,” she said. “You’ve been focusing almost exclusively on chakra control and academic studies. That’s important, but clearly unbalanced.”

Reiji sighed, running a hand through his hair as he acknowledged her words. He had always gravitated toward chakra control as the system gave him an advantage, neglecting Taijutsu. It wasn’t like he’d skipped his morning training quests or those occasional spars with Sachiko. But now, in hindsight, he realized they hadn’t been enough. Not really.

“Taijutsu isn’t just about strength,” Sachiko said, her voice suddenly taking on a lecturing tone. “It’s about timing, distance, and reading your opponent. Those are mental skills as much as physical ones.” She squeezed his shoulder encouragingly, her grip firm. “You just need to apply your wittiness differently.”

“I’ll need a training partner,” he mused more to himself than to Sachiko. Someone who could push him, challenge him, and help him bridge the gap between theory and practice.

Sachiko grinned, her sharp features lighting up with amusement. “Luckily for you, I’m free most mornings,” she said, her tone teasing but sincere. “And unlike your opponent, I’ll actually explain why I’m beating you up.”

That evening, nursing sore muscles and a bruised ego, Reiji added a new section to his Personal Journal:

[Personal Journal]

Taijutsu Development:

• Increase Power and Speed Attributes through basic conditioning (Daily)
• Study opponent patterns and develop counter-strategies (Analytical Approach)
• Spar with Sachiko (3 times weekly)
• Integrate chakra awareness into physical movements (Efficiency)

His amended status reflected the day’s harsh lesson:

[Attributes]
Power: 14/100
Speed: 17/100
Spirit: 25/100
Recovery: 20/100
Intelligence: 87/100
Luck: Unknown

[Level: 2 (520/1000)]

Looking at the numbers sobered him. His intelligence remained his greatest strength, but it needed to be applied holistically, analyzing not just Jutsu theory and chakra mechanics but also the psychology of opponents, and the integrated discipline of mind and body.

“Balance,” Reiji murmured to himself as he closed the Personal Journal tab. “That’s what I’ve been missing.”

.

.

[A/N: Honestly, I'm not sure how you guys will take this chapter, it's my first attempt at choreographing a fight. For better or worse, it's out here now.

I'll admit, I might've gone a little overboard with the grappling.

And yeah, fuck system.]