During the next few weeks, we were instructed on mission scenarios. First on paper, where we had to come up with the best strategies to achieve the mission goals. It was basically a continuation of what Daiken-sensei started at the end of the second year, just more complicated and detailed. After that, we moved to mock trials to apply our ideas. Seiji was very clear that real missions could be completely different from what we were practicing. Every mission could evolve or have unique conditions and complications, but these exercises were meant to give us a foundation, something to fall back on so we wouldn't freeze up and make a disaster out of it in the field. Still, as he reminded us, mistakes were inevitable.
His Byakugan was extremely helpful during the physical drills. He gave detailed, focused feedback. Same with ninjutsu. Most kids had experienced a noticeable boost in chakra over the break, and Seiji made sure to observe as many training sessions as he could, pointing out flaws in chakra control and offering corrections for every jutsu they tried. His eyes were incredibly effective tools for teaching, even if I still thought they were creepy as hell.
Between Seiji using his Byakugan every other day, Misaki Hyuga activating hers occasionally, and Kaen staring at me with the intensity of a starving hawk, I had to hold back. I didn't dare use even a low-level lightning chakra circulation. The last thing I needed was one of them seeing it, trying to copy it, and frying themselves because they didn't have the same instincts, background knowledge, or completely unhealthy willingness to take life-threatening risks that I did.
We had a few sparring sessions using ninjutsu, taijutsu, and weapons, but Seiji, sensing the intensity Kaen gave off, made sure we didn't fight directly. I appreciated that. What I didn't appreciate was that anytime an activity required partners, Seiji always, without fail, paired me with Misaki. I knew exactly what he was doing. And I made sure to keep a respectable distance from her, limiting conversation to the bare minimum. I was hoping she'd eventually lose interest and I wouldn't have to say anything blunt that might turn her into yet another sworn enemy. I already had enough of those and I'm still not even ten.
I told Seiji I didn't want to be paired with her anymore. He waved me off and said it was "good for me," with a knowing wink that made me want to puke.
Eventually, I decided enough was enough.
We were sitting on the training field again, working on a mission scenario. Off to the side, separate from the few pairs still finishing theirs. Misaki was doing her usual thing, sitting beside me, arms propped on the table, watching me write the entire thing while offering absolutely nothing.
"You know, Misaki," I said.
Her eyes lit up. "Y.yes, Noa-kun?"
I sighed. My brain stalled for a second. I'd never been in a situation like this in my past life, and it's not like I had Google to ask for advice. And asking any of the adults I knew? Yeah, no. Tetsuya would laugh until he cried and probably point at me for half an hour. But I had to say something.
"I don't want to be close friends with you," I said, "and I definitely don't want anything beyond that."
Her face shifted instantly. "Wh… what? Why? Did I do something wrong?"
Her voice trembled. Her eyes were red. She was about to cry.
"I'm not interested in anything besides improving and increasing my survival chances for when we get assigned to real missions," I said plainly.
One tear slipped down her cheek.
"Give me a chance," she whispered. "Get to know me. Maybe"
"I'm sorry," I said, cutting her off. "I'm really not interested."
She broke into quiet sobs. "Can we at least be friends?"
I sighed. She was trying. She was innocent. But I knew where this kind of obsession led.
"That's a bad idea. It won't end well, and I don't want to walk that path."
She muttered through soft sobs, "I... I don't understand."
But I stood up, keeping my eyes anywhere but on hers.
"Focus on your studies. On your future as a shinobi. That's what really matters. You'll be okay with time."
Then I added, "We stayed past class hours to finish the scenario sheet. I'll turn it in to Seiji-sensei. You can head out."
I walked toward Seiji, irritated with myself for not handling this sooner and a little bitter that he'd basically forced my hand.
I handed him the paper, silently hoping he wouldn't back out of helping me with ninjutsu training just because I crushed the heart of one of his clan's members. But he seemed reasonable, so it probably wouldn't be a problem. After that, I left. I was one of the last students there. I didn't feel any better walking home.
The next day brought a weird mix of relief and alarm.
Misaki was still staring at me, just with more intensity. But thankfully, when the next partnered activity came up, Seiji didn't assign her to me. He paired me with Shizuru instead, which I welcomed immediately. She wasn't thrilled though. She knew I was going to slack off and make her do most of the work. And being the honor-student perfectionist she was, she'd do it all perfectly just to avoid getting marked down. Still, it was a welcome change.
Later that day, Seiji asked me to follow him to a private training hall. I got a little nervous, but when we arrived, he said with a grin, "Ready to train Lightning Release: Thunderclap Spear?"
My eyes lit up. "Can't wait."
He smirked. "I'm sure you've read the scroll thoroughly. So tell me, how does the jutsu work?"
A tick mark twitched on my forehead. Was this training or an oral exam?
Still, I answered without missing a beat, standing like I was delivering a report to a room full of judgmental, ghost-eyed librarians.
"Thunderclap Spear is a high-velocity piercing technique," I said. "You start by gathering lightning chakra in the palm, compressing it into a narrow point like a spear. The tighter the compression, the more stable it gets, which means it travels farther and hits harder."
Seiji didn't blink. Naturally.
"When released, it shoots straight like a bolt of lightning. It's fast, sharp, and doesn't lose momentum. If your control's good enough, it can even punch through defenses or pin down moving targets."
I crossed my arms. "And if your control's sharp enough, it makes an actual thunderclap when it hits, thanks to the speed. Which is ridiculously cool. I want to be able to pull that off every single time."
Seiji chuckled. 'Good. You understand the theory, and you're motivated to master it."
He pointed to a faded line on the wooden floor, directing my eyes to a training dummy scorched black at the far end of the room.
"Now comes the hard part. Thunderclap Spear isn't about throwing lightning like a maniac. It's about control, timing, and precision."
I tilted my head. "Isn't that true of all jutsu?"
He didn't respond to that. Just kept talking.
"You'll train it in phases. First, generate a small, dense point of lightning in your palm. It should feel like a needle of current, solid and steady."
I raised my hand and sparked a little current. He didn't comment.
"Once you can hold the optimal form for five seconds without losing it, we move to shaping. You'll stretch it into a Spear. "Thin, sharp, straight. And because it's carved from your own chakra, once you master this stage, you'll gain precise and refined control over its shape and direction."
"And that's when things get tough, right?" I asked.
He smiled faintly. "That's when you'll learn that chakra doesn't like staying in a straight line. It'll try to snap back or lash out. You'll have to reinforce the shape the whole time."
I sighed. "Great. So I'm arm-wrestling electricity."
"Then comes the throw. There's no homing or correction. Once it leaves your hand, it flies straight. If your chakra or control wavers at any point, it'll either fall apart during formation or veer off once you release it."
I looked at the dummy. "So, spark the needle, shape it, stabilize it, throw it, and hope for the best."
He nodded. "Exactly. Time to put theory into practice."