Chapter 89

Standing in the courtyard, Takemaru faced me, arms folded behind his back. Genta bounced on his toes beside him, practically glowing with excitement. "Noa," Takemaru said, his voice steady but carrying that quiet weight only old shinobi seem to have, "the taijutsu style of the Senju clan is not complicated in theory, but mastering it takes much more than brute strength alone."

 I nodded slowly, turning the idea over in my head. My biggest weakness in taijutsu had always been my technique. I outclassed every other student in raw strength and reach, but I wasn't using that advantage well enough. Being taught a proper, developed, and complete style could make me far deadlier in close range than I'd ever been before.

Takemaru raised a finger. "It is aggressive. It is overwhelming. But it is also controlled. Our style is built around two things that most clans rarely possess together. The first is our physical superiority. We build our bodies to endure punishment and strike harder than others can match. The second is our chakra reserves."

I tilted my head, trying to picture it just to find the image already there.

Takemaru saw my thoughtful look and gave a faint smile before continuing "The Senju clan learned long ago to weave chakra into our strikes and movements without making it obvious. It is not the same as the Hyuga's Gentle Fist. We do not inject chakra into the opponent's coils or block tenketsu. Instead, we channel it through our own bodies in short, focused bursts. This strengthens muscles and bones in an instant and makes each hit land with more weight than the body alone could deliver."

Genta stepped forward with an eager grin, dropping into a wide stance. He drew in a slow breath, then threw a simple punch toward one of the old training posts. The movement looked almost lazy, but the post cracked under the force, splinters dropping to the grass.

"That was without chakra," Takemaru said calmly. "Again."

Genta exhaled, planted his feet, and twisted his hips the same way. This time, the punch landed with a dull, heavy thud that echoed through the courtyard. The entire post shuddered in the ground and a deep groove split down its center.

I raised an eyebrow, impressed but also thinking that it reminded me a lot of what I had done in my early days.

"Think of it as short pulses," Takemaru continued. "It is a complicated process you will learn over time. When you swing your fist, you push a small amount of chakra through your arm to strengthen it just for that moment. When you block, you do the same to brace yourself. "It means you do not just hit harder, you stay strong longer than your enemy expects and can take more punishment than they can hand out."

He walked over and tapped Genta's shoulder. Genta immediately shifted into another stance, wider this time, fists tucked at his sides and torso turned slightly. His breathing steadied, and I could sense his chakra flicker faintly with each exhale.

"Show him the follow-through," Takemaru said.

Genta nodded and struck again. This time he combined a sharp elbow swing with a twisting motion through his hips and shoulders. The training post split clean in two, the top half falling backward with a heavy crash.

Takemaru glanced at me. "This is the core of it. Keep your movements big but tight. Never waste energy. When you commit, you commit fully. And you must be able to take hits. Our style demands that your body acts like armor. We reinforce the limbs, but the core must be strong enough to absorb blows so you can keep moving forward."

I watched Genta roll his shoulders, clearly proud of himself. "So you just keep trading blows until the other side cracks first," I said.

Takemaru let out a quiet laugh. "That is one way to put it. The Senju have always been known for endurance and tenacity. This style reflects that. We do not dart around like the Hyuga. We do not hide behind substitution tricks once we step in. When you step forward, you see it through."

He stepped closer, eyes locked on mine. "But that means you must be ready. This is not something you do half-heartedly. If your body is not strong enough, forcing chakra through your muscles like this will tear you apart from the inside. You must train your body and your control together. You will be hit and bruised until your body grows thicker and tougher."

Genta jumped in before I could respond. "You'll get bruises everywhere at first. I did. A lot. But once you learn how to do it right, you feel like you could snap a tree with one punch."

Takemaru shot him a flat look but didn't argue. He turned back to me. "This is why so few outside our clan ever try to learn it. Without strong chakra reserves, an exceptional body, and real resolve, you would burn yourself out in minutes. Without the physical foundation, you would cripple yourself. But if you master it, you can overwhelm your enemy before they know what hit them."

I let it sink in, my eyes drifting to the splintered remains of the post. Genta had made it look easy, but I already knew it would be anything but.

Takemaru's eyes held mine. "If you are serious, remember this. Power means nothing if you do not commit fully. This style is all or nothing. You either break through, or you break yourself."

I felt a grin spread across my face. This style was made for me. My lightning chakra circulation probably pushed my chakra augmentation to a high level. I caught Genta looking at me, his grin so wide it looked like it might split his face in two.

"I think you'll find me a natural at this," I said.

Takemaru gave an approving nod, clearly pleased by my confidence. "Good. Then let's begin."

Hiruzen sat in his chair, fatigue lining every deep crease on his face. Master Shuzo settled slowly into the chair opposite him, shifting a bit to get comfortable.

"Old man Shuzo," Hiruzen began, voice quiet, "how are the village's barrier seals holding up?"

Shuzo crossed his arms, a faint scowl on his face. "I reinforced them just as you asked. Added a few more high-level seals too. We should be safe from probing attacks or infiltration for a while."

Hiruzen nodded, puffing smoke from his pipe. "Thank you. We have so few true fuinjutsu grandmasters left. I hate that we have to rely on you so much, especially after you retired."

Shuzo snorted. "I told you when you first took the Hokage seat that you should focus on training kids properly in fuinjutsu. Be strict about it. If you had listened, we might have a few more grandmasters by now. Instead, I have to drag these old bones around the village patching holes."

Hiruzen rubbed his temple with the heel of his hand, doing his best not to show his annoyance. "Kids never take to fuinjutsu. They chase flashy ninjutsu or taijutsu. Fuinjutsu takes patience and thought. You know how rare that is in children."

Shuzo bristled. "That brat Noa is doing pretty damn well for a kid. Don't tell me he's one of a kind."

Hiruzen shot him a tired look. "The only ones with the mental sharpness for it are the Nara, and you know how lazy they are."

The two of them locked eyes across the desk. For a moment, neither said a word. Hiruzen finally leaned back, letting out a long sigh.

Shuzo's expression softened, the anger draining away. "Sorry, Hiruzen. Forgive me. It's getting harder to hold things in these days. My mind is slipping. I don't think I have much time left."

Hiruzen's eyes grew worried. "Don't talk like that, old man. You'll probably outlast me."

A chuckle rumbled from Shuzo's throat, but the edge of sadness was still there. Hiruzen seized on the shift in mood and leaned forward. "How's that kid Noa doing, anyway?"

For the first time in the entire conversation, a spark of life flickered in Shuzo's eyes. "That boy is sharp. He soaks up knowledge like a sponge, but what really matters is how well he understands what he learns. He applies it with a speed that surprises me every time."

Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. "Is he really that good? Do you think he could reach master level while still being a front-line fighter?"

Shuzo's eyes glinted with a rare pride. "I truly believe he could become a grandmaster. He has the potential to go even further."

Hiruzen's brows drew together, half-skeptical, half-hopeful. "Is he really that good?"

Shuzo nodded slowly, a small, sad smile on his face. "He reminds me of that brat Minato when it comes to seals."

Hiruzen's eyes darkened at the memory of Minato but he still found himself smiling faintly, clenching his fist just a little at the thought. "Then, old man, don't you dare die before you teach that boy everything you know."

Shuzo chuckled again, this time lighter. "I want to see how far he goes too. Maybe…"

Before he could finish, an ANBU appeared in the office without a sound. He dropped to one knee, waiting for permission to speak.

Hiruzen glanced at Shuzo, then back to the masked figure. "Speak."

The ANBU hesitated for a heartbeat, eyes flicking to Shuzo. Hiruzen's tone sharpened. "Out with it."

The ANBU straightened, voice tight. "Daiken has not reported back for three days. We dispatched an ANBU to investigate and support him if needed. He just sent back his report. He found the area completely destroyed, signs of a large battle. Further in, he found the site of a massive explosion with remains that indicate Daiken has been killed by what appear to be Iwagakure ANBU."