"I think that's enough." Murakami said to Aiko as he stood.
Aiko was no longer breathing heavily, but one could tell that she had exerted herself fully. "Why?"
Murakami tilted his head at the obscure question. He knew she wasn't asking why he said what he just said.
"Why can't I hit you?" Aiko asked through gritted teeth. "I thought I was stronger now. Why can't I still hit you?"
Her voice broke towards the end causing Murakami to feel a bit bad but then he shook his head.
"It's not that you're weak, I'm just stronger." Murakami said simply. That was the truth and there was no need to sugarcoat it.
Aiko's eyes flashed with a trace of reluctance but seeing the calmness in Murakami's gaze, she couldn't come up with a retort.
"That doesn't mean you're weak, Aiko." Murakami sensed her reluctance and said, then he added. "With your skills, I don't think there are many Genin who would be your match."
Saying this, Murakami rubbed his chin and internally added. 'Not in this generation that I am aware of. Other than Tsunade whom I haven't met, you'd be the strongest Kunoichi of this generation.'
"Then why do I appear like a child when I'm against you?" Aiko asked forlornly.
Murakami could sense her emotions and walked up to her and rubbed her head. "It's a difference in skill."
Their height difference wasn't much, but for a 12 year old, Murakami was a head taller than Aiko, and Aiko was quite tall in her own right.
Due to their respective training, Aiko was the tallest girl in her age grade while Murakami hadn't met anyone who was his height amongst kids his age.
"But-"
"No buts." Murakami immediately interrupted her as she was about to speak. "You're a medic-nin, Aiko. Your job is not to be a fighter but a healer."
Aiko nodded at that. "I know that. But-"
"You still don't understand." Murakami interrupted again with a shake of his head. "While it is imperative that you have the strength to protect yourself and your comrades, you should be more focused on how to fight as a medic-nin, not as a Taijutsu specialist."
"..." Aiko stood dumbfounded on the spot, looking at Murakami with mouth agape.
"Fight like a medic-nin?" Aiko asked after a moment of silence.
Murakami nodded.
"I don't know the full details, but I am certain that you will come to be aware of them now that you're a Genin."
Murakami was aware of the ways medic-nin fought but like other techniques, he couldn't get his hands on them as an academy student, and despite his wealth, those Iryo-jutsu proved to be more valuable than Ninjutsu.
It was understandable though. Knowledge on life saving measures were always more expensive than life taking ones.
'Hmm..? Well, I guess that depends on who is doing the saving or killing and the intent behind it.' Murakami thought inwardly, then shook his head and focused on Aiko.
"You've already mastered chakra control to the Advanced level, water walking. That already places you far ahead of most of our peers."
"But you-
"Don't compare yourself to me." Aiko found Murakami's finger on her lips before she could continue. "Comparison is the thief of joy."
"Now," he said and turned around and began walking towards the sit out. "You would come in contact with various Iryo-jutsu amongst which the chakra scalpel Jutsu serves as an offensive jutsu."
"Yeah, I've heard of Jutsu. However, we require a high level of chakra control to learn it." Aiko nodded in agreement as she followed behind Murakami.
"With your level of control, you could begin learning it already." Murakami said as he sat down and gestured for Aiko to join him.
As she sat down Murakami continued. "The Chakra Scalpel Jutsu allows you to form your chakra into a sharp blade capable of performing incisions necessary for surgeries and anatomical dissections. But…"
He paused and raised his right hand and pointed outward with his index finger and a faint ripple appeared in the air before his finger, as a thin line of pure, white-blue light stretched from his fingertip, hovering in the air.
"...when you reach a certain level of mastery over your Chakra, you reach the stage I have decided to term as the Intent stage."
The level of flawless shape transformation.
Murakami flexed his finger minutely, and the line responded instantly, bending with a delicate curve before snapping straight again like it had a mind of its own.
He whispered under his breath, "It isn't just a blade anymore… it's my will given form."
Slowly, the line thickened, widening into a blade several feet long as his entire palm exuded chakra. Its edge was impossibly sharp, sharp enough to slice air itself, yet silent and elegant.
Aiko watched this in awe and reverence. 'As expected of a genius.' she thought inwardly.
Murakami's hand moved, tracing arcs through the empty air.
With every movement, the blade obeyed him perfectly; curving, stretching, and contracting at his will.
It was precise, surgical, and deadly. Aiko concluded that no physical object could possibly withstand being cut by it.
"Do you know why I showed this to you?" Murakami waved his hand and the blade dissipated, and without waiting for her reply, he continued. "What determines your victory in a clash between similar techniques is mastery of said technique."
"I already know this, Murakami." Aiko nodded, then smiled wryly and looked down. "And you're right. Comparison is truly the thief of joy."
"Don't put yourself down over this." Murakami stood up. "Wait here," he said and walked into the house.
A few minutes later, he stepped out with a piece of paper and a few scrolls.
He sat down, placed the scrolls by his side and handed the piece of paper to Aiko.
Aiko received it quizzically. "What is this?"
"A chakra induction paper." Murakami replied but the confusion on Aiko's face only deepened. He sighed but didn't blame her for being ignorant. "It's used to test one's chakra nature if you channel your Chakra into it."
"Such a thing exists?" Aiko was marvelled at the incredulousness of the paper.
Murakami nodded calmly. "It does, but it isn't publicized knowledge. Only high ranking Shinobi looking to master nature transformation bother to learn their natural elements."
Murakami sighed inwardly. It truly was a shame that this world remained so backwards despite how long chakra has been in circulation.
Why couldn't children be tested and categorized from the moment of their enrollment in the academy?
That way, they would have specialized areas of focus.
"The paper ignites and turns to ash if you have an affinity for Fire. It splits in two for Wind. Lightning wrinkles the paper. Earth turns the paper to dirt and crumbles. Water turns the paper damp."
Aiko nodded in understanding and fascination. She still couldn't believe that such a unique object existed. "You must've checked yours, right?"
Murakami nodded. "Wind and Earth dual elements."
"Huh..? Oh." Upon hearing his element affinity, Aiko was first taken aback, but recalling it was Murakami, she didn't both feel bad for him.
Although Wind and Earth were not complimentary elements, Murakami didn't look to be bothered by it, why would she?
"Go ahead and channel in a bit of your chakra." Murakami didn't care about her emotional reaction to his element and said.
"Hm." Aiko nodded and channeled her chakra into the paper.
First, the paper burst into tiny flames along its edge, then almost immediately, a cool dampness spread across the sheet followed by a faint darkening of the paper as its fibers thickened, crumbling slightly at the corners like disturbed soil.
Aiko stared, mouth slightly open. "F…fire… Water and… Earth?" she whispered.
Her heart raced. She hadn't realized she carried more than one elemental affinity, let alone three.
Murakami watched silently, the faintest of smirks tugging at the corner of his lips. "Impressive potential," he said quietly. "Tri-elemental affinity at your age isn't common."
Aiko beamed at the praise but froze the next moment. Something about that felt off. "What do you mean?"
"You already know how the elements restrict and enhance each other, right?" Murakami asked to which Aiko nodded. "When properly mastered at the nature transformation stage, you have the potential to develop a kekkai genkai."
"Kekkai genkai?" Aiko asked skeptically to which Murakami nodded.
"Shinobi struggle to master even one element, let alone three, but that is largely because they go about it the wrong way."
"The wrong way?"
Murakami nodded. "The mark of a high ranking Shinobi is their ability to perform both shape and nature transformation."
"Shape and Nature transformation?"
Murakami understood her ignorance but he wasn't about to begin lecturing her on that. "You'll learn about it in due time."
Aiko knew better than to press further so she nodded then said. "I thought kekkai genkai are bloodline techniques or something along those lines."
"You're not wrong about that, but at the same time that's not entirely right." Murakami said then looked into the gradually brightening sky. "Time is against us. Next time."
Aiko pouted but Murakami didn't pay her any mind and turned to his side and picked out three of the five scrolls he had brought out with him.
"These are my final gifts to you. A B-rank Earth style Jutsu: Earthquake Palm technique. C-rank fire style jutsu: Shooting Star Fire technique, and C-rank water style Jutsu: Multiple Waves technique." Murakami said as he placed the three scrolls on Aiko's dumbfounded lap.
"...What?"
"What?"
"B-rank?" Aiko looked between the scrolls and Murakami with suspicious disbelief. "How did you get this?"
It wasn't that she doubted Murakami, he had no reason to lie to her and he wasn't fond of it in the first place.
Even as kids, Murakami would rather remain silent than join in a lie.
In his own words: "Lying is beneath me."
This personality of his played a major role in why their initial group only had Daichi and Aiko still on friendly terms with Murakami.
Hiro, Kenji, Rensuke, Kana, Daisuke, Taro, Tsubaki and others… They had all found Murakami too arrogant for their taste and didn't overly associate with him.
And Murakami didn't especially mind. He cared for all his siblings all the same and sparred with them frequently, but that was it.
Their bond wasn't as deep as the one Aiko and Daichi had with him.
To an extent, Aiko knew the kind of person Murakami was, which is the very reason she didn't know what to think of the techniques on her lap.
Murakami didn't care for her skepticism and stood up. "You've learned all you can from me, but learning never stops. Grow, and grow some more. Even when you think you've reached your limit…keep growing…"
Murakami's voice trailed off as his gaze turned to the sky. He raised his right hand as though holding up the sky before clenching it. "...Let the sky be your limit."
…
…
Aiko didn't really know what to think of Murakami at this point. He was many things, antisocial was one of them, incredibly straightforward that it bordered on rudeness, sarcastic when the mood called for it, strict…
She could keep going, but she knew none of this truly described Murakami.
She had been with him long enough to know that he intentionally keeps everyone at arms length, not because he didn't want to be attached, but because of something she couldn't quite place her hands on.
It wasn't indifference.
Murakami wasn't cold.
If he truly didn't care, it would be simpler.
Simpler to call him distant. Simpler to call him arrogant.
But that wasn't it. He kept people at arm's length the way someone might hold a blade properly with a firm grip, careful distance, always aware of the edge.
It wasn't fear of attachment.
It was… calculation.
Not cold calculation and manipulation…at least, she didn't think so. It was as if he was constantly measuring consequences.
Weighing outcomes before they happened. Watching for something that hadn't yet arrived.
Aiko exhaled slowly.
Prepared.
That was the word.
Murakami prepared for loss the way other people prepared for exams.
Quietly and methodically.
And that was what unsettled her.
Because preparation meant expectation.
And expectation meant he believed something was coming.
Like he knew the future.
Her thoughts slowed.
Murakami never talked about it.
But he trained like someone who had already imagined the worst.
Aiko couldn't help but admire him in her heart. He was unique in every way a person could be.
He laughed sometimes. He teased. He even let himself be dragged into pointless arguments just to keep the room lively.
But there was always that invisible line. A boundary no one crossed, not because he snapped, she wasn't sure she had ever seen Murakami get agitated, rather, it's because he gently redirects before they ever get close.
She had tried, once, years ago, asked him what he was so serious about all the time.
He had looked at her for a long second, longer than usual, and said mildly. "Someone has to think ahead."
At the time, she'd rolled her eyes at him because she had thought he was acting like an adult too much. Now? She understood a little better.
It wasn't that he didn't want to be emotionally attached.
It was that he refused to let attachment weaken his judgment.
He cared, which was exactly why he held himself back. A paradoxical existence.
Aiko stared up at the sky above then at Murakami's fist, her lips pressing thin.
"You're impossible," she muttered under her breath.
And yet…
If things ever truly fell apart, she knew, without a doubt, Murakami would already be three steps ahead.
And that thought, more than anything else, both comforted and frightened her.