Evening in Konoha was calm.
The night sky draped itself over the village like a gray cloak, and the four faces carved into the Hokage Rock stood like gaunt giants, gazing silently over the land surging with hidden currents.
Inside a secluded courtyard, Hyūga Kumokawa stood in the center, clad in a white training gi, his eyes closed, his posture motionless.
Around him, wooden stakes and shattered remnants were suspended in midair by mechanical devices, each one sharpened to a deadly point, all aimed directly at him.
A moment later, he let go of the thin cord tied to the mechanism.
Swish! Swish!
The crisp clatter of gears locking shut and the sharp hiss of piercing wind erupted at once, filling the courtyard. A rain of wooden projectiles, sharp and merciless, formed a barrage that closed in on him like a storm.
But in the next instant, Kumokawa's body moved.
His figure blurred, dissolving into an afterimage, wind tearing at the air as he rushed forward—straight into the deadly volley.
Though the stakes were fast, leaving almost no blind spots, in his perception their arcs and angles were as clear as day.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Unlike when he had sparred against Hyūga Aoi, this time he wasn't merely dodging. His palms, wrapped in a glowing layer of blue chakra, lashed out like whips.
In the blink of an eye, each wooden stake struck was shattered from within, exploding into fragments and dust.
The courtyard filled with drifting haze, his silhouette flickering like a phantom within the smoke.
If Might Guy had been here to witness this, his blood would have boiled with excitement.
Because though Kumokawa was using the Gentle Fist, the sheer force in his blows carried the ferocity of the Strong Fist—a fusion of softness and steel, precision and raw power.
Zzt!
The last two stakes, jagged and massive, shot toward him from opposite angles with frightening speed. The sheer kinetic force was enough to skewer flesh and bone.
Kumokawa didn't move. Standing rooted to the ground, his lips curved into a faint grin. His hands tightened into fists, chakra humming violently around them.
"Vacuum Fist!"
He drove his fists forward. No restraint, only pure force.
The air itself split apart, blasting the dust aside. His chakra condensed into invisible mass, tearing away from his body and slamming forward with brutal speed.
Boom! Boom!
Before the stakes could even get within three meters of him, they burst apart, pulverized from the inside into clouds of fine dust that scattered like mist.
These weren't ordinary training stakes—they were crafted from reinforced wood, dense and resilient enough to withstand the full force of Eight Trigrams One Hundred Twenty-Eight Palms. And yet, under his fists, they crumbled like paper.
Had those fists struck flesh instead… nothing would remain but a cloud of blood.
"…It's done."
Opening his eyes, Kumokawa allowed himself a thin smile as his gaze flicked to the glowing panel before him.
"Finally, I've got a long-range, high-impact taijutsu. No more trying to beat down Susano'o and tailed beasts with bare palms."
---
[Taijutsu Techniques]
Gentle Fist: Eight Trigrams Thirty-Two Palms (C-rank)
Eight Gates: Gate of Life (Forbidden)
Gentle Fist: Single Strike Body (B-rank)
Vacuum Fist (A-rank)
A technique where vast chakra is concentrated into a single point and released with the penetrating power of Gentle Fist and the destructive force of Strong Fist. It strikes directly into the target's core, tearing them apart from within.
Most importantly—like the Rasengan, it required no seals and no elemental alignment.
Wind, fire, lightning, earth, water… it could merge with any chakra nature, its potential nearly limitless.
---
"A-rank learning difficulty, huh…" Kumokawa muttered, thoughtful.
Many believed chakra to be like "mana" in games, simply spent when a jutsu was cast.
But reality was different.
Unless you were a Jinchūriki or possessed Yin Seals like Tsunade, chakra couldn't be stored.
It constantly dissipated.
Every use required refining it anew, balancing spiritual and physical energy.
If your refining speed couldn't keep up with the rate of dissipation, you had no talent as a shinobi. That was the true dividing line.
Kakashi, for example, was notoriously frugal with chakra—half of what he refined was swallowed up by his Sharingan, leaving him perpetually strained.
Even Naruto, before winning the Nine-Tails' cooperation, had to use shadow clones to pre-charge Sage Mode. Jiraiya relied on the two toads on his shoulders for the same reason.
The two pillars of a ninja's strength were:
1. Chakra Refinement Speed – how quickly you could generate chakra.
2. Chakra Capacity – how much your body could hold.
The Edo Tensei granted "infinite chakra," yet even most reanimated shinobi couldn't unleash colossal jutsu like Madara's Great Fire Annihilation.
That jutsu was only a B-rank fire style. But in Madara's hands, it required the combined effort of dozens of Kirigakure shinobi and a wall of water to counter. The difference was the vessel—the sheer amount of chakra his body could channel.
That was why, at the Valley of the End, Sasuke's stamina fell short of Naruto's.
Even with the Rinnegan, he needed to steal chakra from the other tailed beasts just to keep up.
And these two factors—refinement speed and capacity—were determined by one thing: the chakra network. Like blood vessels, meridians spread through the body, carrying chakra to 361 tenketsu nodes.
For most, their meridians were like streams trickling water. For Kumokawa, his were roaring rivers, surging endlessly. In this regard, he surpassed even Naruto of the Uzumaki clan.
That was why the system deemed Vacuum Fist A-rank—because he could fully harness this body's innate gifts.
"…I wonder if Kaguya's Eighty Gods Vacuum Attack uses the same principle. Though for her, with that monstrous body, it was probably nothing more than tossing bricks with divine force."
He exhaled, letting stray thoughts drift away. His eyes swept over the devastated courtyard—splintered wood, shredded turf, blood staining some fragments.
After a brief hesitation, he decided not to clean up, and turned back toward the house.
Training with Might Guy all morning, then developing a new taijutsu all afternoon, had drained him. All he wanted now was rest.
But not long after he entered the house, a figure appeared outside the courtyard.
The newcomer froze at the sight. Stakes shattered to splinters, the once-pristine lawn torn and gouged, blood still fresh on some fragments.
"…What happened here?"
Brows furrowing, the figure slipped silently into the courtyard, pausing at the doorway. After a moment's hesitation, they reached for the handle.
Bang!
The door suddenly slammed outward from inside, force so great it thundered across the lawn, rattling the air.
The blast of chakra was like a tide, threatening to crush the intruder where he stood.
"…Hn?"
Startled, the figure reacted instantly. His palm snapped against the doorframe, channeling chakra into the Gentle Fist. A burst of power surged forth, dispersing the force just enough to keep him standing.
The clash of powers canceled each other out, fading into stillness.
Inside, Kumokawa lowered his hand, recognizing who it was.
Click.
The door creaked open.
For a heartbeat, Kumokawa looked surprised.
"Lord Hizashi?"