Ninjutsu 101

Part 1: Silence in the Class

A strange chill flooded the room as the door opened. Those who were not already in their seats quickly found them at the unannounced arrival of their tutor, a few struggled to speed over desks or dart between their fellow students in a race against the seconds, while others engaged in practiced poses of attentiveness at their stations.

The man who entered was nothing like the previous two. He lacked their interested expressions, Suzaku's welcoming bearing or Myorin's confident, energetic stride. The garbs of some distant temple were clad about his body, obscuring his build beneath layers of aged, black-and-purple dyed fabric. He bore the ornamentation one might expect of some eccentric high priest or scholar, with baubles, bells and scrolls rattling and chiming with every one of the figure's deliberate steps. Most prominently, a large, sinister, leather-bound book was literally chained to his side.

He did not bother to greet the students as he arrived, nor return any of their enthusiasm, his eyes casting a disinterested glance across the arrayed silhouettes of would-be-shinobi. He made a rising gesture with his left hand, his right snatching at the chalk beneath the large, black board that dominated the end wall.

The less formal students paused, confused at their instructor's gesture, but quickly followed suit as their more practiced classmates rose from their seats. Standing in honour of a tutor's arrival may not have been as common practice as it was in the past, but it was not so off as to escape the noble scions and veteran pupils amongst them. A dull shriek cut through the silence as Iwao - last to realize - scraped his desk away with raw mass as he stood.

The scratching of chalk on slate was precise and slow, as if to give meaning to each stroke. Some could discern the message by the movement of the dour monk's arm, puzzled expressions arriving moments before the tutor turned to reveal his command to the class.

[SILENCE - 5 MINUTES]

He stared blanky at the upright class. Was this a test? Not a difficult one if so.

Nobody dared make a move.

Two minutes of silence passed. Quiet enough to hear the gentle hum of distance machines in the building and the feint wind catching the brilliant green trees outside the window. A gentle wave of discomfort radiated from the more restless within the group - Nekomaru in particular gently emoting his frustration with a low, twitching tail as the mystic scrutinized each of the children more closely now.

Dark blue irises coiled around brilliant red pupils, flickering with some barely contained energy. Each of the students felt strangely watched as they met those eyes, not by the man himself, but as if something - or some things - were observing them also.

At the third minute mark, their instructor took his seat, pressing his elbows to the desk, tangling a long string of wooden beads between his hands and closing his eyes in meditation.

It was Mona that made the mistake of moving to sit first, seconds ahead of a few others. Her attempt was met with a single-eyed glare from the man, an evil eye strong enough to straighten her back to ramrod posture. The others who had tried to sit were spared the horrible gaze, correcting their mistake in the last moment.

The teacher's eye closed once again.

Everyone was frozen now, listening to to the ticking of the clock behind them rather than turning to see. They understood now why it had been moved out of their normal field of view.

'Discipline.' The monk's harsh voice struck precisely as the fifth minute ended. He motioned the group to sit as he stood, giving them a moment to awkwardly shuffle back into position.

'In my class, we do not value skill, we do not value talent, we do not value hopes or dreams or ninja ways or family names.' He continued as he wiped the board, drawing on it anew.

[Class - Ninjutsu & Chakra Fundamentals]
[Tutor - Dogen]
[Rules - Stand Until Told To Sit, Speak When Spoken To, No Jutsu Unless Prompted, No Eating]
[Late Arrivals - Find Your Desk, Copy Your Classmates, Do Not Distract Others]

'We value discipline. Do you know why?'

Dogen turned to inspect the class. Of all the students, it was Hibiki who mustered the courage to raise his hand first - in fact, he appeared significantly less troubled by this strange man than the others entirely.

'Yes. Otanashi Hibiki.'

'Because we are here to learn, Dogen-sensei.'

'And?'

'A-and? Um. Discipline means we learn the right lessons, yes?'

'Partially correct, but the motivation is far more pragmatic. It is because some of you are behind.'

A brief moment of fear descended. Had there been some test they had missed - when? Before the class? Before arriving to the academy? The village? Rendered incapable of communicating with each other, each student was left stranded on what they had not done, each sure that they were one of the failures of some trial they hadn't noticed.

'But sensei, we've just started. Are you sure you're in the right class?' Sumio's unheralded question lacked any trace of fear, but genuine confusion.

Dogen did not acknowledge the comment, not even to scold the boy's out-of-turn speech.

'More correctly, nearly the entire class is behind, years behind. The academy faculty is concerned with many of your origins. Some of you have been recruited from other institutions - others have just started. Some of you have a recorded familiarity of the fundamentals stretching back over half a decade, others have never stepped foot in a class that we can verify.'

A sigh escaped the teacher, a subtle weariness that almost humanized the pale creature that had been hounding them with his presence.

'I have been observing you all since you arrived. Your charka networks, your breadth, your depth. The way you stand, sit, walk, talk and even breathe tells me more than many of you would expect. Were it a matter of pure power, I would have you all graduate to Genin immediately. It is, of course, far from so simple.'

He withrew a selection of small, identical scrolls from his robes, one for each student, and placed them on the surface in front of him.

'Within each of these is six years of textbooks for would-be shinobi far younger than most of you. I have taken the liberty of annotating, compiling and condensing the material. We will be advancing through this in the same order as a normal class, only at an accelerated pace. You will be taking normally once-a-year exams every month until we have caught up with the expected curriculum of your age. Much of the material is simplistic, you should be more than capable of this very soon, if not already. Fail a single one and your position within the program will be re-evaluated. Any questions?'

Recovering from his previous blunder, the white-haired boy raised his hand and awaited confirmation before his response.

'I thought we were supposed to be training ninjutsu, sensei. I don't need to tell you that they don't teach any of that to the younger classes, it's all baby stuff.'

'And what technique do you suppose I should be teaching?'

'I uh... I don't know, transformation or something?'

'And would you be interested in transformation?'

'Well, not really...'

'Precisely. Tell me Sumio, how many ninjutsu techniques are there?'

'Hundreds, at least?'

Dogen shook his head. 'Thousands, if you count redundant methods to achieve the same goal, possibly many more. Not even Shimogakure's Grand Library has a complete list. There are simply too many to teach, even if I somehow knew of them all.'

The tutor waited for confirmation from the students, realizing his point was not as clear as he had hoped.

'Normally, academies teach a limited number of basic techniques, chosen for three reasons; their ease of use, their introductory connection to broader and more specialized fields, and their requirement for basic principles - chakra kneading, hand signs and basic internal flow - to accomplish.'

He drew on the board much faster now, a complicated diagram connecting dozens of concepts - physical and spiritual energy, chakra moulding, elements, hand signs and more. Most of it was recognizable, simple even.

'This is an insufficient usage of your time for three different reasons. First, each of you has already displayed the ability for more advanced jutsu, secondly, many of you have already chosen your fields of focus and thirdly, we do not have the time to slowly introduce the basics in our accelerated course. At your level of proficiency, there are simply far too many ninjutsu you could learn and far too little time to teach you individually. It would be an insult to us both.'

He finished the diagram before continuing.

'That is to say, I will not be teaching you any new ninjutsu techniques for this class. We shall be focused on your catching up and on theory rather than practice.'

Some of the students showed a level of disappointment, with even the eager learners amongst them chafing under the the prospect of such a simple curriculum.

'However, we do need a method to measure your progress beyond simple paper tests. I have developed a sufficient alternative. Collect the scrolls marked in your name at the desk and follow me to the training grounds, we are going to test your aptitude.'

Part 2: The Test

The students had seen the grounds before, vivid memories of Myorin's challenging bellows and physical exertion still fresh in their minds. For the more spritely amongst them, it was a welcome sight - those with less developed constitutions cringed at the embarrassment of collapsing from exhaustion or falling behind their peers.

The setup was different now, the upturned sand and grass that some amongst them had obliterated the day before already carefully concealed by the academy's adept groundskeepers. Instead of an obstacle course various tools, dummies and targets were arrayed to the side of the field. Everything from semi-autonomous training puppets to brightly painted discs and steel-reinforced straw men. Dogen's challenge was semi-evident before he spoke.

'Though we can read much about you from your chakra, we cannot gauge your technique so easily. Here is your chance to show me what you are capable of.'

Ayane raised her hand next, continuing only on the monk's accepting glance.

'What are we practicing, Dogen-sensei? Like you said, some of us are new to this - I can't imagine we all know everything you'd expect.'

'Whatever you would like.'

Another moment of confusion from the class.

'As I explained, we do not have the time to practice ninjutsu in class. We must find other ways to assess your practical development - the written exams are insufficient for such.'

He spread his hand towards the various targets.

'Each of you may select a single technique of your choice. Choose wisely, for it is the only technique you will be measured on from hereon out. Every month we will test the same technique again. I expect incremental improvements every time.'

Ayane's hand raised again, a certain fluster almost breaking her perfectly practiced persona.

'But Dogen-sensei, if we don't have time to practice, then how will we improve?'

'Disappointing girl, I had thought you were clever enough to understand.'

She lowered herself in embarrassment.

'It is simple, there are two groups among you. Those who are clever or experienced enough to pass the written exams without effort and those who need to catch up on their reading. For the second group, understanding the fundamentals will help you develop your techniques in ways simple practice cannot. For the first, you have more than enough time to practice instead of studying, no?'

He looked to the class again, some unsure, some frustrated, some cold and yet some beaming with confidence.

'It is for this reason that I - not the board of examinations - will be testing you here. If you cannot live up to your talent and simultaneously improve your technique alongside your grades, then you are not worthy to be students here.'

It did not escape his notice that some were unphased by this, particularly those who had developed potent techniques through their bloodlines, this would not do.

'Further. Grades on these practical tests will be measured on improvement, not on raw ability. Those of you who are already ahead of your classmates will need to further enhance what you have already practiced. I will not tolerate talent as an excuse for laxity. You are not here to show off, you are here to learn. Understood?'

With nods of approval, Dogen moved to the centre of the field. With a single-handed sign, the other clutching at his prayer-beads, the tutor began to concentrate. With it, an invisible wellspring of chakra began to emanate from his body.

Most chakra escaped the notice of many in the class. A few like Kosshi were able to sense it easily, but otherwise only powerful concentrations could spark the dormant sixth sense. The monk's was different, cold, sinister even - a shivering feeling that came with an inexplicable pang of dread even if it couldn't be seen directly.

A red-black light sparked from his fingers, lancing into the air and diving back down into the earth as a bubbling, violent ichor, drawing a circle as it did. The more perceptive of the students saw their teacher's finger bleeding gently into the channel, a hidden needle piercing his palm.

'Cursed Barrier Art: Jealous Spirit Embrace'

A tall cylinder of opaque, crimson-shadow force appeared around the monk, cutting off sight, sound and sense to the rest of the class.

'Amazing, I can't hear him at all, and the wind, it's completely cut off from the inside.' Hibiki blurted.

'Tsk.' Kosshi looked less impressed. Even her eyes were struggling to pierce the fog - not that she would admit it - but she could still see the feint outline of their tutor. What worried her more was the barrier itself, the way it writhed as if alive, hungry, almost evil.

The veil dropped as soon as it had arisen, though the feeling of its power remained.

'This barrier will be enough to contain anything you wish to try. When you are ready, enter it with me one by one and show me what you are capable of. Select any of the targets or tools you wish, I shall not be guiding you.'

Nekomaru

It was perhaps unsurprising that Nekomaru stepped through the barrier first. Whether by confidence, ignorance or restlessness, the tiger-striped boy showed little concern, stumbling only a little as he pressed through the strangely gelatinous mass of air at the precipice.

'Oh, uh, didn't expect it to be... Sticky? Watch out everyone!'

Dogen's attention disappeared from the outer class, eyes fixed on the strange boy as he blocked out the world.

'Something stemming from your Swift-style, I presume.'

'Oh, sure! How did you know?'

'Everyone's chakra has a subtle fluctuation, your body producing the element most comfortable to it in almost untraceable amounts. Normally, a sensitive instrument like specially-prepared paper is used to measure it, my senses are sufficient.'

The boy nodded his head, curious and impressed at once.

'Of course, even without it, your... Accomplishments from the other day have circulated through the staff.'

Embarrassment flared, despite Myorin-sensei's understanding it was difficult to forget such an outburst. He calmed himself by bouncing and stretching - his technique wasn't exactly taijutsu, but his body needed to be limber enough to keep up with the acrobatics.

'Okay - Swift Style: Swift Flicker, let's go.'

There was little fanfare before the boy's jumps became larger and longer, dancing arcs between different points of the large, encased field. It wasn't so much an explosive power of muscle, but rather the wind itself carrying his movements. Most experienced wind-users were familiar with this trick, but Dogen saw this rare talent for what it was - the wind moving through and around his body, mingling with his physical energy.

Once he felt warmed up enough, the jumps became faster, rising and falling with increasing pace. Nothing to the speed he'd shown before, but already significantly outperforming most his age at sheer velocity.

The tutor looked on without a hint of expression, his eyes following the boy rather than his head. Nekomaru needed to do something, maybe some tricks would work?

Changing tactics, the striped blur deigned to keep off the ground as much as possible. Literal flight wasn't something he'd really considered yet, but by pushing the air he could chain leaps without a surface, changing direction each time. At first it was two jumps without the earth, then three, then four.

His finesse dulled as the complexity of the display increased. No longer graceful, bounding motions, instead being forced into angular patterns as he struggled to keep up with his own speed. He could go faster, of course, but he didn't need to tire himself out in front of his teacher.

Few comments escaped from his classmates, they'd seen it before - and more impressively - the last time, but the mixture of annoyance and amazement hadn't quite disappeared yet.

The display lasted a little over a minute before the energetic feline somersaulted back to the ground, striking a pose. His breathing was heavier as the effort caught up to him, not exhausted, but certainly strained.

Dogen continued to eye the student with an almost wounding level of apathy, seemingly uninterested at all.

'Poor endurance.'

'Uh, come again?'

'Next time, push closer to your maximum. You are lacking endurance, physical and in your network, your tests will involve you going at maximum speed, holding for longer each time.'

Nekomaru stood shocked for a moment. Myorin-sensei had been giving him a few pointers on how to use it better, but her criticisms were more... Fair? Optimistic?

'Your coordination and velocity are more than enough at this stage, it would be foolish to focus on them until you can maintain that state for longer.'

He supposed he understood, offering Dogen-sensei a bow of respect before leaving the ring.

Natsume

Hot on the heels of the striped blur, an even younger talent approached the barrier. At first glance, she appeared more suited for earlier years in the academy rather than the program, but carried herself with an undeniable air of confidence nevertheless. Rather than stick, the barrier almost parted as she crossed, stretching over some invisible field but rapidly shifting itself closed as she passed.

'So much for your barrier, sensei. I'm not sure it can handle what I can do.' Her sing-song voice wasn't exactly spiteful, but legitimate, as if she couldn't imagine it any other way.

'Yours is Gravity, yes? A rarer form of expression. Only a few families have ever manifested something similar.'

'That's only the half of it! But yes, I'll be showing you Gravity today. Can we have some of the puppets in here?'

A simple sign was all it took for three of the wooden constructs to stand and lumber their way into the barrier. Their movements lacked any finesse - Dogen himself appeared to not be controlling them at all. A simple imbuement of commands then, enough to call when asked for but far from autonomous status.

'You should probably also leave the barrier, sensei, I can't show you my full power if I have to avoid catching you in the blast~.'

'It will be fine, proceed.'

She twitched at his monotonous response. Was he underestimating her? Or was he some kind of masochist? It didn't matter, Natsume knew well enough not to injure her sensei, she would do best to hold back.

'Hmph, no time to waste then.'

She slammed her hands together in a strange symbol, one uncommon to normal techniques and undoubtedly a factor of her bloodline. Three more followed.

'Gravity: Heaven's Grasp.'

The air thrummed almost imperceptibly as the puppets began to slowly rise from the ground. Evidently unprogrammed to react to such an event, they remained rigid, almost comically twisting and turning in static poses.

Dogen did not move, even his robes seemingly stationary despite the upwards pull.

Natsume grinned, forming three more symbols with her hands, each increasing the intensity of the force. The puppets rose from a few inches to a few meters, the grass beneath them had begun to stand straight and her hair reached for the sky.

Dogen's clothing tilted upwards, he did not move.

'Tsk. No need to act all smug, sensei, let me show you!'

Five more hand signs followed. A more proper form and a mark of effort from a Genin. She rose up into the air, a victim of her own power, but controlled and cancelled by her own natural capabilities. She hovered as the puppets spiralled and gravity in the barrier had begun to loose all meaning. The strain showed on her face with a bead of sweat - this wasn't her limit, but she was exerting herself much more than normally.

At first, it appeared as if Dogen was caught in her pull. Her smile disappeared as he formed a single handsign of his own and remained adamantly rooted to the ground. Almost effortless.

Her temper flared. She knew there were other powerful people in the world - sure - she had even met some of them at home. But nobody had dared to just nullify her gravity before, nevermind so, so... Uninterested while doing so.

The emotional turmoil was enough to slip control of her precisely calculated display. Internal physics equations and practiced flows melting in a barrage of frustration. Her power intensified, but not in any direction, a wild storm erupted as the puppets slammed into each other and her absolute point in space had begun to drift upwards.

'HOW DARE-'

It was enough of a slip, pulled into her own vortex, she was forced to nullify her own ability, floating a little less gracefully to the floor as she would have liked, twisting her posture.

'Poor stability.'

'Hmph!'

'Your control, power and understanding of your own technique are adequate - significantly beyond what is expected of a Genin. But you have no idea how to respond when your power is insufficient or disrupted, your instinctive response to push harder will drain you and shatter your control. Your tests will involve an increasing number of obstacles and distractions, both physical and mental, you will be expected to persist.'

Natsume scoffed as she retreated from the barrier. Part of her had taken in the lesson, but another half seethed at the disrespect.

Dogen's eyes flickered over her pendant for a moment as she left, a rare sign of emotion, but quickly suppressed.

Hibiki

The class paused at the outburst, with Natsume retreating further afield to watch with a scowl, all pretence of bravado was sucked out of them into a vacuum of awkwardness. Taking advantage of the silence Hibiki stepped through the barrier next. The blind boy's expression lacked arrogance or recklessness, but was instead accepting of the scathing to come, the barest hint of concern drowned in a strange tranquillity absent from most of the class in Dogen's presence.

'My Sound Style is quite advanced, so I'm told. There's a lot I can do with it, as you know.'

'Choose one application.'

'Ah, um. Sure. Can you let my jutsu beyond the barrier? I promise, it won't hurt anyone.'

A handsign from Dogen caused a ripple in the inky chakra, he gestured to the child expectantly.

What came next from Hibiki was unexpected by much of the class. A song of sorts - beautiful, composed and strangely soft regardless of the distance. Those with enhanced hearing could sense its strange pitch, laced with ultrasonic waves - to them alone, it sounded less like music and more like an animal call.

At first, the other students were unsure what to make of it. The song was pretty, sure, but they had expected a genjutsu, or something more effective. Koda knew what was happening, keeping a hand on a rat perched in his pocket as it glared in Hibiki's direction curiously. Kisui did the same, commanding his strange companion to remain still as it gently writhed in response to the serene sound.

'Birds!' Iwao had noticed them before the others. The swiftest of nature's emissaries naturally arriving first. It was not long before field mice darted between the legs of the onlookers to join them.

Satisfied with the number, it took some encouragement from Hibiki for them to pass through the strange barrier, their animalistic senses leaving them uneasy at its embrace.

'My Clan learned how to communicate with animals a long time ago. It's about pitch and frequency, mostly, but we lace the sound with chakra to bridge the gap between us and them.' Hibiki's explanation was not for Dogen, but for the class. He turned to them with a smile before kneeling down to the various critters that circled him, letting a few climb onto his clothing.

'Now let's see, how about a basic starter trick?' quiet pride swelled in his voice, approaching showmanship as he commanded - or rather, requested - the animals to stand, sit, roll over and other such small things.

'Animals really are smarter than we give them credit for. A lot of them won't do what you ask on command without proper training, but it's less that they can't and more that they don't understand. You'd be surprised what they can intuit when they can actually hear us for what we're saying. Or, more appropriately, when we speak in ways they can hear.'

A few minutes of idle entertainment followed. Two birds caught and juggled a stone. A mouse darted across the field to retrieve a specific, shiny berry cast off a nearby tree by the morning wind. They weren't just cooperating with the boy, but with each other. He made sure to reward them for their attempts.

It all ended when a single stone was cast between them by Dogen. Bleeding an ominous, red-black energy that caused an immediate panic amongst the creatures.

'Tell them to stay.'

A little startled himself, feeling the cursed energy radiating from the stone, Hibiki stuttered and asked the animals to remain calm.

They did not, fleeing the scene to their homes in a flight for their lives.

'S-sensei, why did-'

'Force of control.'

'Control?

'Your coordination with the animals is not in question. In battle, they will be forced to face near-certain death, just as yourself. You cannot impart a warrior's discipline in these creatures normally. It is up to you whether you cultivate a smaller following you can rely on, or to make them reliable with your technique. Your animals will be subject to increasingly dangerous and unnatural situations, I expect them to surpass their instincts, one way or another.'

'I... I see. Thank you, sensei.'

He left not in disappointment or frustration, but a dour mood had overcome him. In his distraction, he had almost left a bird behind - paralyzed by shock. He shook himself from his stupor enough to turn and help, only to be overtaken by a large, moving collection of stone.

Iwao

Iwao was short of stature, even compared to the other children, but his sheer mass was something to behold. Each stony step pressed the grass into the dirt, but did surprisingly little to damage it. He passed Hibiki in absent-minded concern for the grounded, winged friend, reaching down to check on it with surprising expression for a rock. The owl-clad boy knelt next to him, both gentle souls inspecting the poor victim.

'It okay. Just scared.' Iwao checked the thing with what little thoroughness he could before handing it to his classmate. He pointed for the distant trees with a single, grey finger. 'We take it back to home.'

'Yes, Iwao-san. You should stay here and show Dogen-sensei your jutsu, I will take care of it.'

'Hmm? Show D-Dog-sensei what?'

It was at this moment the stone's thoughts caught up with his actions, standing and looking around as if he did not expect himself in the barrier. Hibiki bowed and awkwardly retreated, bird in hand.

'Your body, has it always been stone?'

'Mmmm? Me made of stone, yes.'

'It is not a technique?'

'Mmm. No. No technique. Don't know technique.'

'I see. Would you care to show me one?'

'Don't know technique. Hand signs hard. Not enough fingers.'

A quiet wind danced between the two's silence. Dogen was - seemingly - at a loss. His previous encounter with this boy had gone similar, but it was difficult communicating across such a gap.

'Show me...'

He considered as he raised his hand, reinforcing the barrier back to its full strength.

'The most impressive thing you can do with stone.'

'Oh, that easy.'

With no sign of effort, Iwao plunged his hands into the ground and pulled. From the tightly packed dirt came an odd, misshapen mineral, no larger than a head. It was not its weight that was impressive, but the seeming ease in which the earth had parted to put it in his hand.

'Mmm,' he gazed at the piece with intent. 'Good stone. Want it? Tasty.'

'No.'

'Oh? Oh... Okay,' his dejection disappeared as he opened his maw and swallowed the thing, grinding it to pieces as he did.

Dogen was unimpressed, though a few of the students marvelled at the act of eating the small boulder.

'Petrification, an advanced case, but no knowledge of how to use it.'

'Mmm? Petra, petro...'

'You must study the books I have given you, speak with your classmates if you cannot read. Without handsigns or an understanding of the elements, you will fail to do anything impressive. At present, you are the least fit to be here - despite your potential.'

'Y-you mean Iwao no be shinobi?'

'If you cannot pass the tests. I expect you to master the introductory Earth techniques, soon.'

'Uh, mmm, I uh-' was mud escaping from Iwao's eyes?

'I want to be shinobi...' his voice was quiet at first.

'I WANT TO-' frustration, sadness, tears, all had no effect on Dogen, who seemed even less impressed now than before.

It was Hibiki who returned through the barrier first, grabbing Iwao by the shoulder and hoping to calm him with the newly awakened bird as they retreated.