It had been a week since Arata-sensei introduced us to Bukijutsu in class, and today marked our first real test. Though no one said it outright, there was an unspoken tension in the air—everyone knew that sparring was more than just a lesson.
It was an evaluation, a way to see who had taken their training seriously and who had just gone through the motions.
I had spent the past week training diligently with my staff, putting in hours of practice refining my stance, footwork, and strikes.
The beginner's manual Arata-sensei had given me from the village library had been a helpful guide, detailing the principles of Bo-jutsu—grip positioning, transitions between stances, offensive strikes, and defensive maneuvers.
I had committed as much as I could to memory, but I knew that consistent practice was the true key to mastery.
Now, standing in the academy's training field, surrounded by my classmates, I felt an odd sense of excitement which was unlike me.
Arata-sensei stood Infront of us, his sharp gaze sweeping over as he spoke.
"You've all had a week to train, and now it's time to see the results," he announced. "Sparring is the best way to test your growth, and it will also highlight your weaknesses."
Some of the students shuffled their feet nervously, while others—those with prior weapons experience—seemed eager.
"You'll be paired up based on your skill level," Arata-sensei continued. "Remember, this isn't a battle to the death. The goal is to learn. That being said, if you don't take it seriously, you will get hurt."
His eyes flickered to a stack of wooden training weapons lined up beside him. "Pick your weapons."
I moved towards the bō rack without hesitation.
The wooden staff I had chosen was slightly longer than my height, a comfortable weight in my grip. The moment I grasped it, my body instinctively adjusted into the basic stance I had drilled into muscle memory over the past week.
As the others picked their weapons—swords, daggers, short spears—I took a moment to scan my potential opponents.
Some of my classmates had already gotten used to their weapons, while others still looked uncomfortable holding them. I wasn't sure who I would be matched against, but I hoped it would be someone competent.
"Murakami," Arata-sensei called, pulling me from my thoughts. "You'll be facing Kenji."
Kenji was a broad-shouldered boy who wore a confident smirk. He wielded a wooden short sword in one hand, lazily testing its weight as he walked to the center of the sparring ring.
I've observed him before and knew he was the kind of student who preferred raw strength over technique. Strong but predictable.
I stepped into the ring, positioning myself with my bō held diagonally across my body. My stance was solid, feet grounded, weight evenly distributed.
I wasn't sure how skilled Kenji was, but I wasn't going to underestimate him.
Arata-sensei raised a hand. "Begin."
Kenji moved first, dashing forward with a wide swing. It was fast, but it was also telegraphed—I had seen it coming before he even stepped forward.
I sidestepped smoothly, rotating my staff in a quick, practiced motion to redirect his strike. Kenji stumbled slightly, his balance momentarily thrown off. Before he could recover, I thrust the end of my bō toward his chest.
He barely managed to deflect it with his sword, but the force still sent him a step back. His smirk faded into something more serious.
"Not bad," he muttered.
This time, he didn't charge recklessly. Instead, he circled me, looking for an opening. I kept my stance firm, my bō held steady, watching his movements carefully.
He feinted left, then lunged right. It was a good fake, but my sensory abilities let me track his real movement before he could catch me off guard. I twisted my bō and brought it down hard against his wrist.
Kenji grunted, his grip loosening, but he didn't drop his sword. Instead, he used the momentum to pivot and bring his weapon up toward my side. I barely managed to block in time, the impact jolting through my arms.
The force of his strength was undeniable. If I took a hit directly, it wouldn't end well.
I needed to end this quickly.
Stepping back, I shifted my grip and transitioned into an offensive stance. The bō was an excellent weapon for mid-range combat, and I intended to use that to my advantage.
Kenji came in for another attack, but this time I didn't wait.
I stepped forward, swinging my bō in a wide arc. He raised his sword to block, but at the last second, I retracted my strike and instead jabbed the lower end of the staff into his stomach.
The impact knocked the wind out of him, and as he staggered back, I swept my bō low, knocking his legs out from under him.
He hit the ground hard, gasping. Before he could get up, I pointed the end of my staff at his throat.
Silence fell over the training field.
Arata-sensei nodded approvingly. "Match over. Murakami wins."
I stepped back, lowering my staff as Kenji pushed himself up, rubbing his stomach with a groan.
"Damn," he muttered, giving me a reluctant nod. "You got me good."
I returned the nod. "You're strong. Just need to work on your technique."
Kenji chuckled. "Yeah, yeah."
As the other matches continued, I stood by the sidelines, watching and analyzing.
I had won my first real spar with the staff, but I knew I wasn't unbeatable. There were still plenty of areas where I could improve—speed, reaction time, and transitioning between attack and defense more fluidly.
I wasn't satisfied yet.
As the day went on and the matches wrapped up, Arata-sensei gathered us together.
"This is only the beginning," he said. "Weapons take time to master. Some of you did well today. Others…" His gaze landed on a few students who had been thoroughly beaten. "…need more work."
He crossed his arms. "But that's the point of training. You have potential, all of you. It's up to you to refine it."
After the intense Bukijutsu sparring session, the class took a short break before moving on to the next lesson.
Most of my classmates were still catching their breath, nursing sore limbs, or complaining about their matches.
I used the time to reflect on my fight with Kenji, replaying every movement in my mind and identifying areas where I could improve.
However, before I could get too deep into my analysis, Arata-sensei reappeared at the front of the classroom.
"Next, you'll be starting your Genjutsu lessons. Your instructor was unavailable last week, but he'll be handling it from now on. Everyone, sit down and pay attention."
At his cue, a tall man with dark brown hair, sharp features, and piercing eyes stepped into the classroom.
"My name is Yuhi Tetsuo," the man introduced himself. "I will be your instructor for Genjutsu. Some of you might already know that my clan, the Yuhi, specializes in this art, though we are not as well-known as the Uchiha."
A few students exchanged glances, likely thinking about Konoha's famed Uchiha clan, known for their powerful Dōjutsu that enhanced their Genjutsu prowess. Tetsuo-sensei ignored it and continued.
"Before we begin, I have a question for you all." He crossed his arms, his gaze sweeping over the class. "What is Genjutsu?"
Silence.
Some students fidgeted, unsure whether to answer. I already knew the basics of Genjutsu, but I waited to see if anyone else would speak first. Eventually, a boy in the front hesitantly raised his hand.
"It's… illusionary techniques?"
Tetsuo-sensei nodded. "Correct, but that's an oversimplification. Genjutsu is a refined art, far more than simple illusions. It is the manipulation of an opponent's mind and senses, making them perceive things that aren't real."
He turned to the chalkboard and started writing as he spoke.
"Genjutsu operates by interfering with an individual's chakra flow in their nervous system. Unlike Ninjutsu, which alters the physical world, and Taijutsu, which relies purely on the body, Genjutsu affects the target's perception. When used correctly, it can be just as deadly as any sword or jutsu."
He finished writing and stepped back, revealing three fundamental points on the board:
1. The Basis of Genjutsu
2. Common Applications
3. How to Counter It
Turning back to the class, he gestured toward the first point.
"To cast a Genjutsu, one must use their chakra to disrupt their opponent's senses. This is done by injecting a small amount of chakra into the target's system, which can be accomplished through sight, sound, or touch."
He glanced at us, gauging our reactions before moving on. "Most Genjutsu work by altering one of the five senses. The most common targets are sight and sound, but more advanced techniques can manipulate touch, smell, and even pain receptors."
Several students murmured at that. The idea of manipulating pain seemed particularly unsettling.
Tetsuo-sensei smirked slightly at their unease. "Now, let's move to the applications. Many shinobi underestimate Genjutsu, believing it to be a secondary skill. But in truth, it has a variety of uses beyond just trapping an enemy in an illusion."
He listed examples:
Disorienting opponents in battle.
Creating false images to deceive enemies.
Instilling fear or confusion.
Extracting information by manipulating emotions.
"And finally," he continued, "the most important thing you need to learn—how to counter Genjutsu."
He pointed at the board again. "The simplest method is disrupting your chakra flow. This is called Genjutsu: Kai—the Release Technique. By sending a surge of chakra through your body, you can break most low- to mid-tier illusions. However, if the difference in skill is too great, that method won't always work."
He clasped his hands behind his back. "Another method is physical pain—self-inflicted or otherwise. Since Genjutsu is an illusion, experiencing real pain can sometimes break its effect. But again, this depends on the strength of the technique."
A girl near the back raised her hand. "What about the Sharingan? Isn't that the best for Genjutsu?"
Tetsuo-sensei's expression remained neutral. "The Sharingan allows for high-level Genjutsu, but it is not the only way to excel in this field. A strong mind, sharp intuition, and precise chakra control are just as valuable."
With that, he clapped his hands. "Enough theory for now. Let's move on to a practical exercise. I'll be demonstrating a basic Genjutsu—a D-rank illusion known as False Surroundings Technique."
He formed a short set of hand seals, then gestured toward the classroom door. "Now, one of you—stand up and walk toward the door."
A boy hesitated before stepping forward. He walked confidently at first, but then paused, looking confused.
"Huh?" He blinked, turning his head. "I thought the door was right there?"
The rest of us looked, and for a moment, it really did seem like the door had shifted slightly to the right. A small but noticeable displacement.
"That," Tetsuo-sensei said, "is False Surroundings Technique. It's a simple trick that alters an opponent's perception of their environment."
The illusion faded, and the door appeared in its original position.
"Now, I want each of you to practice molding your chakra and attempting to replicate this technique. Don't expect to succeed immediately, but understanding the process is the first step."
The class quickly became filled with students attempting to form the necessary hand seals and channel their chakra. Some got the sequence wrong, others failed to control their chakra flow properly. I took my time, analyzing the way Tetsuo-sensei had done it.
I had been refining my chakra control for a long time, and I understood the theory behind Genjutsu well enough. Slowly, I molded my chakra, visualizing the slight distortion in perception I wanted to create.
I released the technique.
For a brief moment, the classroom walls flickered, shifting just a fraction to the side. It wasn't perfect, but it was something.
Tetsuo-sensei's sharp eyes caught it immediately. He gave me an approving nod before turning back to watch the rest of the class struggle.
I smirked slightly.
I…think I might've found something quite interesting.