[Chapter 16 – Meet the Crimson Fist!]
Konoha was a beautiful place.
Both Yohei and his other self agreed on that.
It was very… chaotic, yes – a blend of nature and civilization that wasn't neatly delineated and organized like the parks of modern cities on Earth. Instead, there were patches of mini-forests nestled within the village walls, spilling into and intertwining with common streets as though they had grown there naturally.
The streets themselves were breathtaking. Blue, red, green, purple, and orange tiles covered rooftops and buildings, scattered in a way that made the village look like a vast mosaic – bright, warm, and welcoming. Seen from above, as the first rays of sunlight struck those tiles and reflected through the dawn mist, the entire village seemed to glow with rainbows, forming a view so idyllic it almost felt unreal.
Yohei couldn't help but wonder if Lord Hashirama – who had grown up amid battlefields and war camps – had cried the first time he saw it.
Was that one of the reasons his face had been carved into the Hokage Rock? Not merely as a symbol that he would always watch over Konoha, but so that he could forever gaze upon this view?
"Maybe I'll get the chance to ask him someday," Yohei mused with a quiet sigh.
Normally, that would be an impossible thought – considering Hashirama was dead. But in this world, dead was hardly an absolute condition.
Speaking of dead people, however…
Yohei let out a groan. "I sure do feel like a corpse."
Which, really, was only to be expected. In the same week that he'd started a new and far more exhaustive training regimen, he had also decided to wake up earlier and pile even more exercise onto his days.
"Climbing the Hokage Rock using only my arms sure was one of the ideas of all time," he muttered, staring down at his still-shaking hands and trembling fingers.
Normally, something like that wouldn't have been such an ordeal. But inspired by the way his sensei had used Chakurami to increase the difficulty of their swimming drills at the training grounds, Yohei had deliberately lowered his Chakra Enhancement as much as possible during the climb – leaving most of the work to his body's raw strength.
"And all for nothing, too," he grumbled, letting himself fall back against the rough stone of Hashirama's massive head.
He'd come up here hoping it would be the perfect spot to condition himself for Total Concentration Breathing. Apparently, though, it wasn't high enough for the air to thin to a degree that would meaningfully strain him – which he probably should've predicted, given that parts of the village were built even higher than the Hokage Rock, and that an entire new section would someday rise above it.
Still, it wasn't really a total loss.
Climbing was one of the exercises that demanded the most cardiovascular effort, after all. He had gained something from it – even if it wasn't what he'd hoped.
"Should I just start sprinting around the village instead?" Yohei muttered to himself. "Maybe I'll run into a certain Green Beast while I'm at it and… somehow score myself a set of weight seals. Isn't that how this usually works?"
He stared up at the dark blue sky and the few fluffy white clouds lingering after the rain, drawing in a deep breath of the cool morning air before letting out a snort and a quiet chuckle.
"Right. Enough of that."
Sitting upright, he crossed his legs and settled into place.
Yohei closed his eyes, taking a moment to steady himself before slowly and steadily inhaling. He kept drawing in air until his chest ached from the forced expansion of his lungs. Only then did he close his mouth and do his best to hold it in.
Total Concentration Breathing wasn't merely about changing one's breathing pattern. Simply breathing in and out wasn't enough to achieve its effects. It was an incredibly involved and intensive process that demanded constant attention and an inhuman degree of bodily control.
The practitioner needed to contract and relax specific muscles at will, regulate their heartbeat, dilate blood vessels, and manage dozens of other minute physiological processes simultaneously.
Normally, most of that wasn't taught through theory. A senior would guide the prospective Slayer step by step, correcting mistakes until the body learned through repetition – until instinct and sensation replaced conscious thought. Only after that was true bodily awareness meant to follow.
Yohei, however, had no such guidance.
What he did have was the strange effect granted by the Chaos Scroll's rewards – one that allowed him to learn far faster than he normally should have been able to. In his opinion, that was even better. But it also meant that until he either achieved complete awareness of his body – or learned a medical jutsu that allowed him to observe it directly – he would have to proceed through trial and error alone.
He adjusted his posture, tilting his head back and spreading his arms wide, lifting his shoulders slightly. It allowed him to draw in just a bit more air.
At that moment, the elastic fibers of his bronchi, bronchioles, and alveoli – along with the membranous pleura surrounding his lungs – were stretched nearly to their limits. His rib cage and chest wall had expanded to the very edge of their structural capacity.
His intercostal muscles burned and trembled under the strain. His diaphragm cramped painfully.
Pressure built against his sternum and costal cartilage, his body begging him to exhale – while his lungs themselves felt as though they were being stabbed by a hundred tiny daggers.
It still wasn't quite enough.
Focusing on the point just beneath his lungs, Yohei forced his diaphragm further downward – overriding its reflexive release and carving out more vertical space within his thoracic cavity for his lungs to expand.
'Kami, this feels horrible.'
Next, he tensed and expanded the muscles around his lower ribs, pulling them outward until his torso took on a barrel-like shape. At least that reduced some of the pain, distributing the internal pressure more evenly even as it increased his lungs' horizontal volume.
'Now for the worst part.'
An interesting tidbit about the human body: when the diaphragm moves down, the liver, stomach, and intestines are naturally displaced downward and outward. Normally, this is prevented by the reflexive tightening of the abdominal muscles.
So… what happens when someone has enough control over their body to relax their abdomen during that process?
Slosh.
"Ugh-"
Yohei forcibly restrained the urge to gag as he felt his digestive organs shift and slide downward inside him, making room for even more air to be drawn in.
His lungs felt like they were about to tear apart.
Even so, he held it for as long as he could.
Which, as it turned out, was less than ten seconds before he broke, coughing violently as he practically puked the air back out of his lungs.
"C – cough – f-fuck-" cough, cough "-ing hell. This… sucks major dick. A whole bag of dicks."
He hunched forward, breathing normally again as he waited for the lightheadedness to pass. Every inhale now felt shallow – insufficient – and an unfamiliar ache lingered deep within his thorax.
'Is this the Chaos Scroll at work? he wondered. Making me adapt so fast to Total Concentration Breathing that normal breathing already feels wrong?'
Yohei let out a slow breath. "Guess I'll only know once I see someone else learning it."
Looking into the distance, he noticed the sun had already risen fully above the horizon. Combined with the growing hubbub of the waking village below, it made it painfully clear how late it already was.
Suppressing a groan, Yohei straightened his posture once more, closing his eyes and pulling his focus back inward.
'Alright,' he thought grimly. 'Time to do this shit at least twenty more times before I have to meet the others.'
Today's mission came as a bit of a surprise.
Mitsuboshi Satoru – Yohei's neighbor – had made good on his promise and secured a direct commission for Yohei and his team by name.
The mission?
Babysit his little hellion of a daughter while the man took his beautiful wife out on a surprise morning date.
Needless to say, Sana, said daughter, was not pleased. Being forced to stay home and be "treated like a baby" – in her words – while her parents went out to have fun was, in her opinion, the height of injustice.
Now, Yohei – armed with memories of countless anime and manga featuring suspiciously similar situations – would very much like to say that Sana-chan saw him as a cool older brother. Someone inspiring. Reliable. A figure whose words she listened to when she ignored everyone else.
That would be a lie.
The truth was that she hated him.
…Well- no. That wasn't quite right either.
Sana liked him.
In the same way a killer whale liked a seal.
She had thrown glitter bombs through his window while he slept, slipped itching powder into his yukata during the last festival, and constantly stolen his snacks whenever he was out playing with friends.
All of it – and more – done purely to see how much it would take to make him snap and give her a reaction.
Which was, of course, exactly why he never did.
Yohei only laughed or ignored her entirely, something he was sure sucked all the fun out of it for her.
That didn't mean she'd given up.
He fully expected her to be just as much of a pest today as she had been every other time he'd babysat her – especially with his team present. He'd been bracing himself for nonstop chaos: sprinting around the house to stop her from hurting herself, making a mess, or trying to escape – or being forced to act like her personal servants just to keep her from throwing a screaming fit that wouldn't stop until her parents came home.
Which was a very real possibility.
…He spoke from experience.
Imagine his surprise, then, when the cruel, teasing grin Sana had been wearing upon seeing him instantly vanished the moment the rest of his team stepped inside, her expression transformed into a wide-eyed, open-mouthed blush.
His surprise only grew in the minutes after Sana's father left, when the little demon abruptly began acting like a bashful, demure young lady – prim, proper, and painfully polite.
"I'm Mitsuboshi Sana! You honor me with your protection – please take good care of me!"
She bowed as she said it.
She even offered them drinks.
She had never offered Yohei a drink – or anything, really – before. Ever. She usually stole his or tried to knock it out of his hands at the earliest opportunity.
It didn't take a Nara to figure out exactly why she was acting like this, either – not with the number of "furtive" glances and blushing smiles she kept throwing at a certain red-eyed boy.
And if it was obvious to Yohei, Ren had caught on the instant he saw her.
Which was why, instead of his usual snarky little-shit self, Ren had dialed things back to the persona he'd occasionally used back at the Academy and was now acting like a knight – no, a prince.
He kissed her hand when introducing himself, called her a lady, and spoke like he'd stepped straight out of a romance novel.
Sana was eating out of the palm of his hand.
And by consequence, out of Yohei's hand as well.
Apparently, she was very afraid that Yohei might reveal to Ren what "Lady Sana" was actually like – if the pleading, wide-eyed looks she kept shooting his way were anything to go by.
Yohei looked at Ren, who stood behind her, meeting his gaze with a wide, devilish grin.
They were both very, very evil people in their own ways.
Which was why Yohei simply smiled reassuringly at Sana, then promptly distracted himself by returning to the household chores – leaving the two of them in the main room, playing pretend at life in the Daimyō's court.
It was better, he decided, to let devils mingle among their own.
With Ren fully occupied keeping their charge distracted, Souma and Yohei finished cleaning the house without much trouble. After that, there really wasn't much left to do except laze around.
Still, Hayama had explicitly told them to treat this as a bodyguard mission before disappearing.
So the two of them conducted a perimeter check of Yohei's neighborhood while they worked, then positioned themselves where they could keep watch over both Sana and Ren in the living room.
Hayama probably wouldn't fake an attack just to test them, but he was almost certainly watching, and Yohei had no doubt they'd be hearing commentary once the mission ended.
"Hey, Souma," Yohei called quietly.
The white-haired boy remained vigilant, eyes flicking between the door, the windows, and the stairs leading to the second floor, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"Yes?" Souma replied.
"You know my house is the one right next to this one, right?" Yohei said, jerking his thumb toward the window, where his home was just barely visible. "I already asked my mom about teaching you Lightning Release. She said you should come by sometime so the two of you can work out a schedule."
Souma turned toward him with a grateful smile and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Yohei."
'Again with that? At least it wasn't a dogeza this time.'
Yohei chuckled, waving his hands dismissively. "No need for that, dude. If you want to thank someone, thank my mom – she's the one who'll actually be doing the teaching."
"I will," Souma replied earnestly, still smiling. "When should I come over?"
Yohei shrugged. "After training today should be fine. But with how tight our schedules are right now, I think the only real time you two will have for lessons is on the weekends."
Souma frowned slightly. "Wouldn't I be imposing, then?"
"Nah, don't worry about it," Yohei said easily. "I'll probably be out on Sundays anyway, so I'd actually like it if someone came over. Keeps my mom from spending the whole day worrying."
Souma's mouth formed a small "o" as he nodded in understanding.
Yohei blinked – then snorted.
"Oh. Right. I forgot," he said, stepping closer so he could whisper without Ren overhearing. "Let me clear that up before it turns into something weird."
Souma leaned in.
"I'm not getting extra lessons on Nature Transformation," Yohei murmured. "I actually managed it yesterday. The reason I stayed behind was to ask Hayama-sensei for permission to head into the forest and look for a Chakra Beast to train."
Souma's eyes widened, his expression turning serious. "Do you need help?"
'Look at this guy,' Yohei thought incredulously. 'I just told him I'm leaving at the exact time he'd be getting the lessons he wants, and he didn't even hesitate before offering to give them up. Is he a shōnen protagonist or something?'
Chuckling softly, Yohei patted Souma's arm. "Don't worry, big guy. I've got this."
Souma studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Please call me if you need support."
"I will-" Yohei started, then hesitated, scratching the back of his head. "Hey, I'm, uh… working on something."
Souma tilted his head in quiet encouragement.
"A technique," Yohei explained quickly. "Something kind of like Muscle Assault, but without Yang Chakra. Or… really any chakra at all. I don't know why I'm telling you this when it isn't even finished yet – I'm still working out the kinks – but I'm pretty sure I'll get it done sometime soon. And when I do, I want to teach it to you and Ren."
He paused, exhaling softly.
"I guess it just felt wrong not to say anything-"
He was interrupted by Souma proving, once again, that he was a hugger.
The taller boy's arms wrapped around Yohei in a tight embrace that made his bones creak.
"Thank you."
"N–no problem," Yohei muttered, struggling to breathe as his face went red from the trapped blood.
Which probably looked like a blush, because a second later, Sana – who had apparently forgotten she was supposed to be pretending to be anything other than the little menace she was – shot to her feet, pointing dramatically in their direction with a triumphant grin.
"Ha! Gay!"
-~=~-
The reward for that morning's mission was surprisingly high – much more than what they'd earned over the previous days, despite the effort required being far lower.
Then again, Yohei supposed Satoru-san knew exactly what kind of hazard his little girl was.
And the generous pay probably doubled as an incentive for them to accept the mission again the next time the man wanted some alone time with his wife.
After collecting their reward and stopping for lunch, the four of them made their way along the now-familiar path toward Training Ground Twelve. Before long, all three genin were seated on the grass in front of their sensei once more.
"Sensei," Ren said, pointing a thumb at Yohei, "why the hell is this dumbass sitting like an idiot?"
Yohei endured the jab with stoic composure, not letting it affect his posture or expression in the slightest.
One arm was drawn across his body while the other supported him against the ground, hands clenched tightly together. His head was tilted slightly downward, eyes sharpened into a hostile, resentful glare, brows furrowed, lips pressed thin, jaw tense.
"I'm practicing," he said calmly.
Ren stared at him, baffled, arms spreading wide. "Practicing what?!"
Yohei let the silence stretch for a few deliberate beats.
Then he slowly shifted his gaze sideways to look at Ren.
A single tear slid down his cheek.
"You wouldn't understand."
A suppressed snort cut Ren off before he could shout whatever indignant retort he was winding up for.
All three of them turned toward their sensei.
Hayama was looking placidly back at them, not a hint of guilt on his face.
"If you two are quite done," he said mildly, "I think it's about time we start today's training."
Ceasing his practice of the Fallen Angel Pose, Yohei crossed his legs and leaned forward eagerly – a motion mirrored by his teammates as they waited for their sensei to continue.
How could they not be eager, after all?
'Today's the day I get to beat Ren's ass black and blue. Maybe I'll even get another reward from it!' Yohei thought happily.
Ren seemed to be entertaining a very similar fantasy, judging by the sharp smile he shot Yohei's way.
Hayama let out a soft chuckle at the expressions on his students' faces.
"Right. As you all know, today our goal will be training your taijutsu. Specifically: hand-to-hand for Yohei, swordsmanship for Souma, and bukijutsu for Ren." He paused. "Our focus today will not, however, be on sparring between you-"
He had to stifle another snort as their faces immediately fell.
"-but rather on measuring your overall competence."
He formed a hand seal, crossing the index and middle fingers of both hands.
Puff.
A cloud of white smoke burst into existence beside him, quickly dissolving to reveal a Shadow Clone of Hayama. The clone's gaze locked immediately onto the smallest of the three.
"Kouen Ren," the clone said with a grin, already turning away, "with me."
"I think he remembers you, Wimpy-kun," Yohei teased, grinning at Ren's sudden stiffness.
"That's not how clones work!" Ren snapped – before letting out a defeated sigh and trudging after him.
Hayama watched them disappear into the woods with an amused smile before turning to Souma, his expression sharpening.
"And you're with me. Let's see how the Yahan Issen-ryū compares to the Empty Breeze Style."
Yohei could practically see the fire – well, sparks, actually – in the white-haired boy's eyes as he nodded, his grip on the sword's hilt tightening until his knuckles went white.
Hayama's smile only widened.
"Come on. I already prepared a space where we can go all out."
Souma nodded and immediately started to follow –
"Uh… what about me, Sensei?" Yohei asked, blinking in confusion.
Hayama and Souma stopped, turning back to look at him – Souma giving their sensei a confused glance as well. Hayama only grinned at Yohei, shaking his head.
"Don't worry, Yohei-kun, I didn't forget about you. I just thought you'd benefit more from the guidance of a dedicated hand-to-hand fighter." He glanced off into the distance, then looked back at Yohei with an expression that was half-teasing and half genuinely worried. "Just… try not to die."
Before Yohei could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, Hayama leapt away, vanishing into the trees. Souma gave him a reassuring look and a thumbs-up before following after him.
"Well, shit," Yohei muttered to himself, now left alone by the riverbank. "What now?"
He looked around. No answer.
Letting out a sigh, he decided to do something productive while he waited for this mysterious instructor to arrive.
Before that, though, I should probably make sure I'm not caught distracted when they get here.
Rat → Tiger → Hare → Dog → Bird.
"Thousand-Sound Perception."
He shivered as a cool sensation rushed up from his belly to his head, chakra pooling in the tenketsu associated with hearing. Then – suddenly – it felt as if a blanket had been ripped away from his mind.
Sound flooded in.
Every rustle of leaves, every ripple of water, every distant chirp of a bird – layered atop one another in dizzying clarity.
'This should be good enough,' he thought, straightening and tilting his head back as he began his breathing exercises again.
Immediately, he noticed a difference.
With Thousand-Sound Perception active, he could hear things from within his own body – things he normally never would have.
I should have thought of this before, he mused, realizing that his seated posture was causing a slight obstruction in his airways, making inhalation just that bit harder. He adjusted himself, then drew in air until his lungs were full.
And now for the worst part.
He forced his diaphragm downward, expanded his lower ribs, then consciously relaxed his abdomen, allowing his digestive organs to shift downward and make room.
On its own, the process was deeply uncomfortable.
Coupled with being able to hear it?
'Maybe this wasn't such a bright idea – urgh. I don't think I'll be able to eat anything else today.'
Still… the results spoke for themselves.
The motion was smoother. Faster. More controlled than it had been that morning. Where his first attempt hadn't even lasted ten seconds, now-
He managed fifteen before he had to explosively force the air back out.
He was going through his fourth cycle when a sound that didn't belong to the forest entered his awareness.
Heavy stomps echoed far in the distance – the thud of earth shaking, stones breaking – followed by a sharp hup and the rush of displaced air as whatever it was launched itself skyward.
It was surprisingly sneaky, honestly. Yohei wouldn't have noticed it at all without his jutsu. At least – not until the individual completely abandoned any attempt at stealth by shouting.
"DYNAMIC ENTRY!"
Yohei was already moving before he fully registered the words, but hearing them only added urgency to his scramble to get the hell out of where he'd been standing.
It was the right call.
Less than a second later, a human-shaped missile tore past the spot where his head would have been, blasting straight through the river and slamming into the trees on the opposite bank. Trunks snapped and splintered as it plowed through them, only stopping after carving a short path of destruction.
Yohei stared at the devastation, heart pounding so hard it felt lodged in his throat.
A moment later, the one responsible emerged from the wreckage, brushing dirt from his hands and laughing.
"Hahahahaha! Good reflexes, my dear kōhai!"
Yohei needed only a single glance to know he was completely screwed.
He couldn't stop smiling, though.
The man was huge.
Almost twice Yohei's height – and Yohei wasn't exactly short. Short, spiky orange hair crowned his head, brown eyes shining with manic energy. His tanned skin closely matched Yohei's own. He wore a white sleeveless vest over a ninja-mesh undershirt, his hitai-ate tied around the bicep of his right arm – an arm Yohei was fairly certain was bigger than his head.
The grin on his face was positively feral as he finished dusting himself off with armored gloved hands.
Spoiler: Meet Your Senpai
"I'm your senpai – future Nin-Taijutsu Specialist – Sekiken Gōdo!" he declared proudly. "Here to whip you into shape!"
Yohei's smile matched his as he bowed deeply. "I'll be in your care, senpai!"
"Good answer!" Gōdo boomed, kicking off the ground and launching himself effortlessly back across the river to land beside Yohei. "Now – hit me!"
Yohei didn't hesitate for even a heartbeat.
Testing something he'd read in the Total Concentration Breathing manual, he inhaled deeply as he drew his fist back – then exhaled explosively the instant he moved, twisting his body to put every ounce of strength into the strike-
'What the fuck.'
It felt like punching a mountain.
It wasn't just that the blow was ineffective. Gōdo was an immovable object, and the full force of the impact rebounded straight back into Yohei. He bit back a scream as he shook his burning hand, silently grateful he hadn't broken any bones.
"Too weak!" Gōdo barked, completely unfazed. "Way too weak! There's no way you can use the Strong Fist if that's your limit! Hayama-sensei told me you were ready – don't make him a liar! Show me how strong you really are!"
"Alright then!" Yohei shouted with a snarl, forming the Ox hand seal as he molded his inner energies into Yang Chakra, flooding it through his body to strengthen flesh and bone – before layering normal chakra over it like a cool, stabilizing wave.
"Extreme Muscle Assault-!"
His muscles swelled and hardened as the transformation took hold. Yohei repeated the breathing process instinctively – and was momentarily startled to find that, instead of restricting him, his Assault state amplified his breath, making each inhale deeper, stronger.
He shoved the thought aside. There was no time for that now.
Once the transformation stabilized, he pushed past it.
Doing precisely what Hayama-sensei had warned them not to do, Yohei fed his body more chakra than it could safely handle – but not blindly. Not stupidly. Rather than dumping it all into his arm, he applied Chakra-Enhanced Strength with intent, boosting specific muscle groups in sequence.
First: Rooting and ignition. He flooded his gastrocnemius and soleus as he drove into the ground, creating a living lever – then reinforced the tibialis anterior and posterior to lock his ankle in place and prevent power loss.
Second: Leg and hip detonation. Chakra surged into his quadriceps as his knee extended, propelling his body forward. It poured into the gluteus maximus, creating a violent hip extension and rotation, then into the adductors to stabilize and contain the torque.
Third: Core transmission. External obliques ignited as his torso twisted toward the strike. Internal obliques accelerated the motion. Transversus abdominis tightened to prevent energy bleed. Erector spinae locked his spine rigid enough to transmit force without collapse.
Fourth: Force redirection. Chakra snapped into the serratus anterior, protracting the shoulder blade forward, then into the lower trapezius to anchor the arm and stop it from drifting.
Fifth: Arm swing. Pectoralis major engaged in brutal horizontal adduction. Anterior deltoid drove the arm forward. Latissimus dorsi coupled torso rotation into the limb, adding mass and momentum.
Sixth: Terminal velocity. Chakra compressed and released through the triceps brachii like a piston, creating explosive extension in the final fraction of a second.
Seventh: Energy transfer. He forced all that moving chakra into his fist – locking the wrist with flexors and extensors, clenching the fingers by flooding the flexor digitorum profundus and superficialis at the instant of impact.
And eighth… survivability.
Yang Chakra surged into his sternocleidomastoid and deep cervical flexors – desperate reinforcement to keep this act of absolute dumbassery from snapping his neck or rattling his brain loose from recoil.
Of course, this was the ideal process.
Yohei had neither perfect anatomical knowledge nor the monstrous chakra control required to isolate individual fibers with precision. The best he could do was aim, compressing chakra in the right general directions and praying his body held together.
The side effect was impossible to miss.
Turquoise chakra erupted from tenketsu across his body like geysers, violent and unstable, his form glowing with barely contained force.
Seeing all of that, Gōdo – rather than attempting to block or evade – only grinned wider, his own reddish-brown chakra rushing out of his body and taking on a yellowish tint as it condensed over his torso.
"-Megaton!"
The moment the fist connected, Yohei felt something break and shatter.
Thankfully, it wasn't his arm – but the hastily raised Earth Chakra defense Gōdo had put up. A split second later, Yohei's fist – having lost almost none of its strength – slammed into the much taller boy's solar plexus, digging deep into his chest and twisting skin and flesh along with the rotation of his wrist.
The sound it made was thunderous.
Somehow, it was even louder than the bomb tag Yohei had used against the monster boar during his genin test.
The next second, Gōdo was sent flying back into the mess he'd created upon arrival, tearing through even more trees as Yohei locked in place, shaking violently as the recoil tore through his body, leaving him feeling like one enormous, aching bruise.
Still, Extreme Muscle Assault spared him the worst of it. He had strained himself – but avoided serious injury from the reckless maneuver.
A sudden weight bloomed in his chest, startling him for a moment before he recognized it as the Chaos Gacha activating once more. Before he could celebrate, however, his legs gave out. He dropped to his knees with a pained hiss, releasing his Assault form to avoid further damage.
Looking toward where he'd sent his ballistic senpai, he muttered doubtfully,
"Maybe I went too far?"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"…Or maybe not."
"That was great!" Gōdo said as he walked back into view. His white vest was completely destroyed, while his ninja-mesh shirt sported a clean hole at the midsection – beneath it, an angry-looking purple bruise was already forming. "It almost felt like a punch from Guy-sensei!"
"If even half of what I've heard about Konoha's Green Beast is true," Yohei replied with a weak chuckle, "then I'm flattered."
"As you should be!" Gōdo laughed, leaping back over the river and landing cross-legged right in front of Yohei. His smile was wide, open, and utterly sincere. "I suppose I should introduce myself properly now that you passed my little test. My name's Sekiken Gōdo. I'm a chūnin, and your senpai from Hayama-sensei's last team. I love eating meat and fighting, I hate sour food and spineless people, and my dream is to become a Nin-Taijutsu master on the level of the Raikage! It's a pleasure to meet you, kohai-kun!"
He extended a hand.
Yohei took it – unsurprised when Gōdo immediately tightened his grip, turning it into a contest of strength. Despite knowing it was hopeless, Yohei had no intention of yielding.
Which seemed to be exactly the reaction Gōdo was hoping for. He released the grip just before it became truly painful, his grin stretching even wider.
"I think I'm going to like you, kohai-kun."
"Name's Yohei," he corrected, straightening. "Kuroyama Yohei. And I think I'm going to like you too, Gōdo-senpai."
"You won't if I have anything to say about it!" Gōdo laughed as he stood, hauling Yohei up with him. "In fact, by the time I'm done with you, you should hate me with every cell in your body!"
"We'll see about that," Yohei replied with a grin. "So – how do we start?"
"Well, that depends on you. Tell me, kohai-kun-" Gōdo suddenly stopped smiling, fixing Yohei with an intense stare, "Are you a genius?"
Yohei blinked, a crushing pressure settling over his shoulders like a boulder. "Uh… no?"
The pressure vanished as Gōdo clicked his tongue, pouting and looking off to the side. "That's a pity. I really wanted to teach a genius. Guy-sensei says those kinds of people can learn without being given a single instruction. If that were the case, all I'd need to do is beat you around until you stopped getting hit and started hitting back. I suppose we'll have to do this the long way."
'I don't think even a genius could learn anything if you killed them with your punches, senpai.'
"Right!" Gōdo exclaimed, his grin snapping back into place as he crossed his arms. "To start with, let me tell you exactly what I'll be teaching you – Konoha's supreme koppōjutsu style: the Strong Fist! It is a fighting style that demands great strength, great endurance, and great resilience, and whose focus is on dealing overwhelming external damage and destroying the bones of your enemies. It is truly the most merciful of all fighting styles!"
"Come again?" Yohei asked, utterly baffled, unable to reconcile Gōdo's cheerful tone with the horrifying description.
"Of course! Unlike internal martial arts such as the Gentle Fist – which focus on destroying organs and vital points to kill the opponent – the Strong Fist focuses on making them completely incapable of fighting, or even resisting at all! You can't survive if your heart explodes from a Hyūga's slap, but you can absolutely stay alive if all four of your limbs are shattered!"
'I think most people would rather die than suffer that, though,' Yohei thought.
"I see," he said instead, nodding firmly.
"To use it," Gōdo continued, "you need not only immense strength, but also vast amounts of energy. Every movement and every strike of the Strong Fist demands your maximum effort – your full power, at all times, holding nothing back. It's not something a normal person can sustain; they'd be exhausted in moments." He gave Yohei an appraising look. "That jutsu of yours seems to have the strength part covered – though you should still work on increasing your base stats – and from what Hayama-sensei told me, you're already training your stamina. In that case, we'll be doing the following-"
He ran through a short series of hand seals, then slammed his fist into the ground. When he pulled it back up, a pillar of compressed earth rose with it, forming into a straightened staff shaped by Earth Chakra. It emitted an ominous whoosh as he spun it casually through the air.
"I'll show you a stance or a movement from the Strong Fist," Gōdo said, driving the butt of the staff into the ground. It bored straight through the earth, cracks spiderwebbing outward. "If you do it wrong – bad posture, poor timing, forgetting a muscle, or not giving it your all – I'm going to hit you."
He smiled ferociously.
"Until you do it right. That way, we'll also be training the third fundamental aspect of the Strong Fist – resilience! It doesn't matter if you can hit your opponent with the power of a raging bull if you can't survive the recoil yourself! Now – are you ready!?"
'Absolutely not!' Yohei screamed internally, bitterly regretting that he hadn't decided to say screw taijutsu and bring a sword after getting the Water Breathing manual.
"Bring it on!" he shouted instead, already molding Yang Chakra to reenter Assault Mode.
"How manly!" Gōdo laughed. "You're even crying tears of gratitude! Don't worry, kohai-kun – I swear I'll also do my best. I'll hold nothing back in my strikes!"
'FUCK!'
"YEAH!"