About a month into the Academy, we finally hit the big one: the Chakra Extraction Technique. This was the moment everyone had been waiting for the threshold between being a regular kid and being a weapon.
The vibe in the grotto classroom was heavy. It wasn't just Arai today; two other guys Special Jonin, by the look of their vests were standing at the front. They had that "I've killed people" stare that made even Kaito stop trying to flick spitballs.
"Listen up, because I'm only saying this once!" Arai's voice was like a whip. "Today we start Chakra extraction. It's the foundation of everything. But here's the fine print: Chakra is life energy. It's the fusion of your physical stamina and your spiritual power. If you overdo it, you'll wreck your body. If you really screw up, you'll stop your own heart."
He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "The village rule is absolute: No practicing this alone. No secret training sessions in your backyard. Unless you have a certified instructor or a family guardian watching you, do not touch your energy. If we catch you breaking this rule, you're out of the Academy. Period."
I sat in the back, soaking it in. I got it. This wasn't a "magic system" like in a video game; this was bio-fuel. And for kids like us, our engines were still in the break-in period. I also noticed the subtext: the "ninja kids" would be practicing at home with their parents, while the "civilian kids" were stuck waiting for class. The gap was already starting to widen.
I thought about my dad, Sharyu. He'd never even mentioned chakra to me at home. I used to think he was just being overprotective, but looking at my skinny arms, I realized he was just being realistic. My "engine" was barely held together with duct tape and hope.
"Alright, eyes shut! Cross your legs!" one of the Jonin barked. "Clear your mind. Feel the energy in every cell that's your physical side. Now, focus your thoughts that's your spiritual side. Bring them together in your gut. Slowly. Don't force it."
I closed my eyes and followed the instructions. "Clearing my mind" was easy. My thirty-year-old soul was like a massive, calm ocean compared to the noisy static of a five-year-old's brain. My spiritual energy was huge, pure, and ready to go.
But when I tried to find the "physical" half? It was like trying to find water in a desert.
My body was a disaster. My cells felt sluggish, my foundation was incomplete, and the "energy" I could pull from my muscles was pathetic. It was like I had a high-voltage power grid (my mind) trying to connect to a single AA battery (my body).
Every time I tried to fuse them, my spiritual energy would surge forward and just... drown out the physical side. It wasn't a lack of control; it was a lack of balance. It was like trying to use a sledgehammer to tap in a tiny embroidery needle. One hit and the needle just snapped.
I felt a sharp, stinging pain in my gut. My forehead was dripping with sweat, and I felt like I'd just run a marathon while sitting perfectly still.
Around the room, things were happening.
Kuro, the big kid, was the first to get it. A faint, jagged ripple of energy flickered around him. It looked rough and unrefined, but it was real. Arai nodded. "Good. Keep that rhythm."
A few other kids from ninja families followed. Kira and Taro still looked lost, their faces scrunched up in concentration. Kaito was already peeking, looking frustrated that it hadn't happened instantly.
I was stuck. I was "internally perceiving" the problem with 4K clarity, but I couldn't fix the lack of raw materials.
"His physical stats are trash," I heard Arai whisper to the other Jonin as they walked past my seat. "He's got nothing to work with. If he keeps pushing, he's gonna hurt himself."
I didn't give up, though. I stopped trying to "fuse" them the way they taught. Instead, I went into "micro-engineer" mode.
Instead of a sledgehammer, I imagined a pair of tiny, microscopic tweezers. I started pulling the tiniest, microscopic threads of physical energy from my body one by one. It was exhausting. It was like trying to drain a swimming pool with an eye-dropper. Then, I brought in the smallest possible sliver of my spiritual energy. I moved them together at a snail's pace.
The class was almost over. Most of the kids were high-fiving each other or whispering about their first taste of power. Even Taro had managed to get a spark with some help from the Jonin.
I was the last one. Arai looked at the clock and sighed. He was about to call it.
Click.
Deep in my gut, a thread thinner than a hair finally fused. It was so weak it felt like a light breeze would blow it out, but it was there. A tiny, glowing spark of Chakra.
"Huh," the Special Jonin said, stopping in his tracks. "Arai, wait... look at the kid."
Arai leaned down, his face inches from mine. He closed his eyes to sense the air. "No way... is that it? It's so faint I almost missed it."
He looked at me, and for the first time, he didn't just look annoyed. He looked confused. "He actually did it. It's the weakest chakra I've ever seen, but... it's a success."
I opened my eyes and let out a long, ragged breath. My face was white, and I felt like I was about to pass out. I looked like I'd just survived a major illness, but deep in my eyes, I was grinning.
I was the last in the class. My power level was basically zero. But I'd pried the door open. I'd found the frequency.
I was finally a ninja. Sort of.