The Curse of the Shozen

Asasu lay sprawled out on the ground, breathing heavily, arms spread out like he had just barely survived a battle. Sweat dripped down his forehead, his long sleeves sticking uncomfortably to his skin. His legs felt like they were made of stone, aching from the constant strain of trying and failing to climb the tree properly.

Rentaro stood over him, arms crossed, expression unusually serious.

"Alright," Rentaro muttered, rubbing his chin. "Something's not right."

Asasu groaned, staring at the sky. "Yeah, no kidding. I've been falling off this stupid tree all day."

Rentaro shook his head. "It's not that. It's your chakra."

Asasu frowned, sitting up. "What about it?"

Rentaro studied him for a moment before exhaling. "Try again. One more time."

Asasu sighed, dragging himself up onto his feet. His muscles ached, but he ignored it, focusing on the task at hand. He had already gotten a little better at controlling his chakra, managing to take a few steps up the tree earlier.

But every time, it felt… off.

Like trying to scoop water from a well only to realize the well was nearly dry.

He pressed his foot against the bark, concentrated, and pushed chakra to his soles.

Then he stepped forward-

And immediately slipped, crashing back to the ground.

Rentaro pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, we're stopping for today."

Asasu groaned, staring up at the sky. "Am I really that bad?"

Rentaro didn't answer immediately. Instead, he rubbed his face, looking more annoyed than usual.

"Stay here," Rentaro muttered, already walking back toward the house.

Asasu sat up, blinking. "Where are you going?"

His father didn't respond, already inside.

Asasu sighed, letting his head fall back onto the dirt. "Great. I broke my dad."

Inside the house, Rentaro stepped into his bedroom, eyes scanning the room.

The room was a mess. Clothes were thrown over the chair, half-open drawers, a stack of unfinished mission reports were shoved into the corner. The only thing truly neat was his sword, resting against the far wall, untouched.

Rentaro ignored all of it and instead crouched down, lifting the bed slightly.

A cloud of dust burst out as he reached underneath, grabbing something heavy.

A massive, old book, its dark brown cover worn and faded.

Rentaro sat on the floor, staring at it for a moment before running a hand through his hair.

"That old bastard," he muttered.

Asasu had barely managed to pull himself up from the dirt when Rentaro returned, the heavy book tucked under his arm.

He sat down on the wooden steps leading to the backyard, placing the book beside him with a loud thump.

Asasu raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

Rentaro sighed. "Your future, probably."

Asasu blinked. "…What?"

Rentaro rubbed his forehead. "Alright, listen up. Your chakra reserves are… weird. Almost unnaturally weak."

Asasu frowned. "So I just need to train more, right?"

Rentaro exhaled. "Not exactly. You should have more chakra by now, even with no formal training. But your reserves are so small, I doubt you'll ever be able to use high-level ninjutsu, no matter how hard you train."

Asasu froze, staring at him.

For a long moment, he didn't say anything.

Then, finally-

"You're joking, right?"

Rentaro shook his head.

Asasu felt something cold settle in his stomach.

He had assumed he was behind because he hadn't trained as much as the clan kids. He thought maybe if he worked hard enough, he'd catch up.

But if his chakra was naturally weak… then there was no catching up.

"No," Asasu said, shaking his head. "No way. That doesn't make sense. How am I supposed to be a shinobi if I can't even use jutsu?"

"You can use jutsu," Rentaro corrected. "Just not efficiently. You'll always run out of chakra faster than others. It's a limitation, but not an impossible one."

Asasu stared at the ground, his mind racing.

A shinobi who couldn't use jutsu properly?

What was the point?

Rentaro sighed, tapping the book beside him. "That's where this comes in."

Asasu glanced at the book, then back at his father.

"That's… a book," Asasu said flatly.

"Brilliant observation," Rentaro muttered.

Asasu rolled his eyes. "What's in it?"

Rentaro tapped the cover. "Your grandfather's taijutsu training manual."

Asasu blinked. "Wait… that grandfather?"

"The one and only," Rentaro confirmed.

Asasu felt a headache forming.

His grandfather Osamu Shozen was a legend in the family.

Not for his skill.

Not for his wisdom.

But for being a perverted old man who abandoned shinobi life to live in the Land of Hot Springs, surrounded by bathhouses.

They visited him every year, and without fail, the first thing he ever said was, "You brats brought me my sake, right?"

"Why do his teachings matter?" Asasu asked, already dreading the answer.

Rentaro sighed. "Because he specialized in pure taijutsu. No ninjutsu, no genjutsu. Just raw physical skill. And guess what? He used to joke that one of his grandkids would inherit his 'curse.'"

Rentaro pinched the bridge of his nose. "The old fart was right."

Asasu stared.

"You're saying," he started slowly, "that my chakra reserves are so bad that I have to learn from him?"

Rentaro smirked. "That, or you can keep falling off trees forever."

Asasu groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "This sucks."

Rentaro chuckled. "It's not as bad as you think. Taijutsu users can be terrifying. Ever heard of Might Dai?"

Asasu hesitated. "A little. He's the guy who trained Might Guy, right?"

"Exactly," Rentaro said. "Dai was considered weak by most shinobi. No ninjutsu, no genjutsu. But he became a monster through sheer hard work and taijutsu. People laughed at him until they realized he could beat actual Jonin in a fight."

Asasu frowned. "So you're saying I just have to punch my way through every problem?"

Rentaro shrugged. "It worked for your grandfather."

Asasu looked at the massive book beside his father, feeling frustrated and in disbelief.

This wasn't how he expected his shinobi training to start.

But if this was his only path forward…

"Fine," he muttered. "I'll learn it."

Rentaro smirked. "That's the spirit."

[A/N] I don't know how I feel about going this route, but if you enjoy it, I'll ride it out.