That feeling of weightlessness that came with being able to traverse a vast distance in a single step came with a certain level of addiction.
'I could really get used to this.' Murakami thought to himself while going through a series of foot work around his training field.
It was the early hours of the morning and Murakami wasn't about to miss his daily exercise before beginning his day.
To an outside eye, Murakami's figure was like a blur going round the field, his speed was such that if one wasn't paying attention, they wouldn't be able to locate the real Murakami from the blurry afterimages each step left behind.
After going through a hundred circles, Murakami came to a halt in the center of the space, the afterimages he left behind, fading gradually.
"You know it's a bad habit to peek at someone training, right?" Murakami said calmly.
A brief silence followed before a shadow rippled across the doorway leading from the house to the backyard, then slowly came into view.
"Humph, what peeking? You knew I was there, so it doesn't count as peeking." The figure defended as it walked into the moonlight to reveal the figure of Aiko.
Murakami glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Seeing her expression, he knew better than to entertain her smart tongue this early in the morning.
"What do you need?" Murakami asked as he took a deep breath and settled into a Taijutsu stance.
The instant he settled into his stance, Aiko felt the atmosphere around him shift. It was like an invisible presence she couldn't see, yet could faintly sense, was rippling across his skin.
She squinted her eyes as she reaffirmed in her heart at how dangerous Murakami really was.
She hasn't met anyone who gave her this sense of oppression without even attacking.
And he wasn't actively focused on attacking her.
She could only dread facing him when he's this serious…well, that was her worry of the past.
Currently…
"I need you to fight me seriously." She spoke the words she finally steeled herself up to say.
Aiko was strong and she knew it. Since she began training under Murakami, she had seen noticeable changes in her overall strength.
Initially, as she began wearing the weighted seals, her strength took a drain, her agility plummeted, her hand eye coordination, reaction speed took a hit as while she could perceive, her body didn't listen to her.
However, with consistent effort and nourishment, she was finally able to get her mind and body to reach a level of understanding she didn't previously think possible.
That made her wonder…if she could notice this in under two years…how much more does someone who's been on it for…as long as he has…how much more difference does he feel in comparison.
When she wore hers for the first time that morning ago, there was only a 3X difference, although she now wore 12kg across all limbs and bringing her total weight to 60kg, she saw that he was at 25kg bringing the total to 100kg.
Though the difference was just 40 kg, she understood how greatly it separated their levels of strength.
"You'll begin your journey as a genin today." Murakami said calmly. "What has come over you to demand that from me?"
"You sound as though it is a waste of time." Aiko snorted.
Murakami watched silently as she reached a few steps away from him, then raised her hand and formed a fist. "One hit." She said,
He raised an eyebrow in askance. "One hit?"
Aiko nodded. "Battle me seriously, my only condition of winning is one hit." She said firmly, her eyes seeming to tear a hole through his.
Murakami observed her for a while then sighed inwardly.
He knew that look. He wasn't going to try to change her mind. There was only one question now. "All out?"
Aiko shook her head. "That would defeat the purpose."
She was trying to see how strong she was, not how weak. She rolled her eyes at the thought.
"Purpose?" Murakami asked and Aiko nodded.
"I want to know how much stronger I am without these restraints."
Murakami nodded calmly in understanding. "But that seems to put me on the side being restrained."
Aiko nodded without a change in her expression. "I know, but I trust you to be capable enough to be able to defend against me even when I go all out."
'So that's your reasoning?' Murakami thought with an incredulous look in his eyes before looking away. 'What sort of trust is that?'
He could outline all the ways this was clearly disadvantageous to him, but he wasn't about to appear weak.
"Alright then, for the next ten minutes, go all out and attack. I'll focus on defending and evading." He said, but instead of agreeing, Aiko shook her head.
"Hmm?"
"That's not what I want." Aiko replied, her voice firm and steady. "I want to know how strong I am,"
"But attacking would…" Murakami paused just then, but continued inwardly, '...let you see how weak you are.' He sighed. "Forget it. You better be careful."
His expression was no longer casual but dead serious. Aiko saw this and nodded solemnly. She brought her hands together and made a hand sign.
As she did, the Seal marking on her arms and shins shone brightly before returning back to normal.
Aiko let out a soft moan before covering her mouth and looking at Murakami in embarrassment.
Murakami on his end pretended he hadn't heard anything and just kept looking into empty space. He knew that euphoric feeling that came with the deactivation of the weight seals.
They were made in a way that put the entire body under the combined weight of all four limbs. Deactivating it was more pleasurable than finishing during nightly activities, which probably said more about how miserable wearing them was than anything else.
Aiko was a kid though, there was no way she thought that way, so her embarrassment stemmed from something else…not that he was curious to find out what.
Fighting through her embarrassment, Aiko bounced on her feet and said. "Here I come."
"Sur-" Murakami replied…or tried to, only for her fist to suddenly appear in front of his face.
Murakami's eyes shifted, not in surprise, simply in acknowledgement of her speed.
At the last possible moment, his head tilted a few centimeters to the side causing the punch to brush past his cheek, close enough that Aiko felt the faint warmth of his skin against her knuckles.
'Miss!' She thought, but didn't stop and rotated on her lead foot as she drove a follow-up punch toward his ribs but Murakami's hand moved.
Not to block but to guide.
His palm touched just above her fist, redirecting the strike downward, stealing its line and structure.
Aiko's eyes sharpened. 'So that's how it feels up close…' She thought and moved with the redirection instead of resisting it, letting momentum carry her upper body downward as her leg came from behind, aimed at Murakami's head.
Murakami took a step to the side and her leg sliced through empty air, and while she was wondering where he went, he was already behind her shoulder line.
"Dead." He said softly as his finger tapped her from behind.
She clicked her tongue and jumped away to create a space between them. "You didn't attack."
"There wasn't a need." Murakami shrugged casually. "If I actively attack you, this wouldn't be a learning experience."
Aiko knew Murakami wasn't bragging when he said that. She already knew how strong Murakami was, a serious punch from him was capable of snapping a tree their size.
And that was without deactivating the weight seals.
She had seen it happen so she held no illusions over it.
Murakami on the other hand was rather impressed at Aiko's speed, but If the speed she just showed now was her fastest, then she had no hope of really hitting him.
It wasn't that Aiko was slow or weak, Murakami's Taijutsu that revolved around softness and hardness just countered her.
And although they both practiced the same techniques, Murakami was in a state similar to perfection of the technique while Aiko was still far behind.
As the creator of the technique, Murakami didn't specify the threshold to determine one's level of mastery.
Theoretically, perfection of the 27 katas gave one a level of control of the space around them.
Murakami's control was already at this stage of mind and body unity while Aiko had yet to attain it.
It was impossible for Murakami to consciously lose to Aiko.
To Aiko, Murakami was a complete Shinobi in the very essence of the word "Complete".
Power, speed, and technique.
But that still wasn't the full picture, and she knew it.
As someone who trained in the same technique as Murakami, she felt it instinctively.
What truly made Murakami dangerous… was his level of understanding.
He didn't just have strength. He understood how to use it.
He didn't just have speed. He understood when timing was necessary.
And technique? This very technique she still struggled to fully comprehend, stopped being a tool in his hands, and became a something akin to body language.
Aiko rolled her shoulders, eyes locked onto him, irritation and excitement mixing in equal measure.
"…You're annoying," she muttered, eyes intensely locked on his.
Murakami smiled faintly. "I've gotten that a lot recently."
"Tsk." She clicked her tongue and exhaled once, steadying herself as her thoughts began spinning.
She hadn't underestimated Murakami in that earlier exchange, but apparently, it still wasn't enough.
If Murakami couldn't be hit by her sudden attack, that could only mean she was still lacking.
Restraints or not.
'Think!' She screamed inwardly.
Charging blindly wouldn't work.
Speed alone wouldn't work.
Power alone definitely wouldn't work.
Murakami simply watched her think, his posture relaxed. His stance didn't look like a stance at all.
If anything, he was just standing there casually.
And yet, that was the worst part.
There was no opening to read.
No tension to predict.
No aggression to react to.
Just… still.
'Like a rock.' Aiko concluded and took a step left.
Murakami didn't move.
She stepped right.
Still no reaction.
Her eyes narrowed. "…You're doing that again."
"Doing what?"
"Standing there like you already know what I'm going to do."
Murakami tilted his head slightly. "I don't," he said honestly. "But I know what you can do."
That irritated her more than if he had bragged because he was right.
No matter the variation she came up with, her moves would still mirror Murakami's martial technique.
Aiko's fingers twitched, but this time, she didn't charge, she walked slowly until she was five steps away.
Four.
Three.
Then—
She vanished forward.
Not a straight dash, but a stutter-step feint into a low-angle entry, and suddenly she was inside striking range.
Her fist mercilessly snapped toward Murakami's throat, sharp and direct with no wasted motion to speak of, but Murakami swiftly rolled his shoulder causing the strike to skim past his collarbone.
But before her arm fully extended, Aiko rotated her hips and drove a short-range body punch into his ribs.
Murakami reacted quickly and brought his elbow down, collapsing the angle of arm.
He felt that blocking would be counterproductive as that would make them both sustain unnecessary bruises.
Her punch slid across his muscle instead of sinking in but Aiko didn't withdraw.
Her knee came up instantly but Murakami stepped into her as though already expecting her to make that move.
Their hips collided and her knee lost leverage mid-rise but instead of being flustered, she twisted with it, turning the failed knee into a sweeping low kick aimed at his ankle.
But Murakami lifted his foot just enough for the kick to pass under as his heel settled behind her lead foot.
Aiko immediately felt it.
Danger!
She dropped her weight instantly, preventing the trip, and snapped her head forward for a forehead strike.
But Murakami wasn't having it and tilted his head slightly, though it made a brief contact and grazed his temple instead of landing clean.
Their shoulders touched, and for half a second, they were chest to chest.
That was within a micro range.
Aiko's hand shot toward his wrist. 'The first attack wins.'
Or so she thought as Murakami rotated outward, fingers brushing the radial pulse point on her wrist.
Her arm felt… delayed, but she forced through it anyway and spun into a back elbow but Murakami stepped off line causing the elbow to cut through empty air.
Aiko stumbled forward, then turned hard and threw a spinning kick.
Murakami sank his weight and dodged before stepping through the arc, and landing inside her guard again.
Two fingers touched her sternum.
"Dead," he said quietly.
Aiko slapped his hand away and jumped back, breathing heavier while Murakami's hadn't even broken rhythm.
For a moment, there was only the sound of Aiko breathing.
Then she grinned. "…Again."
Murakami nodded once.