Chapter 24: New Academic Year and Observations

Murakami's POV

The Shokkuha no Jutsu—Shockwave Technique.

I tapped my fingers against the desk, letting the words roll around in my head. Unlike the three fundamental jutsus of Clone, Transformation, and Substitution, this one wasn't designed for deception or misdirection.

No smoke and mirrors. Just raw, controlled force. Like an angry toddler throwing a tantrum, except weaponized.

That was interesting. I could already see the prospect of this seemingly weak technique.

Imagine upgrading this D-Rank jutsu so much that Shinra Tensei looks average…Nah, Shinra Tensei is stupidly overwhelming, though I won't place it outside of possibility.

I didn't know much about ninjutsu, at least not yet. So, instead of pretending I understood the deeper mechanics, I did what I always did—I mentally shoved it into my memory scape, sealed it away in a nice little mental drawer labeled "For Future Genius Consideration."

One day, I'd come back to it. With more knowledge and experience.

For now, though? New classroom. New faces. New year.

I glanced around.

Some students were familiar. Others weren't. But a few stood out immediately, and not just because of their personalities, no, if that were the case, I'd probably be glowing, it was their clan insignias that gave them away.

The Uchiha, sitting with their usual air of self-importance. The Hyūga, silent and composed like they were born knowing all the answers. The Akimichi, larger-built but surprisingly relaxed, like this was just another lunch break. The Inuzuka, one with a small puppy snoozing inside his jacket, which was both impressive and deeply unfair. I wanted a nap too.

And then there were people like me. The "nameless masses," the ones without fancy bloodlines or clan techniques to fall back on. We filled in the spaces, the gaps between the shinobi legacies.

Some of us were ambitious, aiming to carve our own names into history. Others were just trying to survive the Academy without failing spectacularly.

Me? Heh.

I slouched slightly in my seat, arms folded.

"Counted how many Uchiha yet?" a voice mumbled beside me.

Katsuro Nara, professional expert in looking one breath away from a nap.

I tilted my head. "Three."

He sighed. "That's three too many."

I smirked but didn't respond. He had his reasons. I had mine.

On the other side of the room, Aiko, my classmate from last year, had already inserted herself into a group conversation, her voice carrying over the quiet murmurs.

She caught my eye and grinned before turning back to her new audience.

Socializing was her art form. I, personally, preferred a more detached approach to human interaction.

Other notable faces included Ryuji Inuzuka, who had somehow trained his dog to snore in sync with his breathing. Respect.

There was Hana Hyūga, who looked at people the way a librarian looks at someone returning a book with coffee stains.

Daichi Akimichi, arms crossed, looking vaguely bored but probably thinking about food. He knew his priorities. I could respect that.

Then there was a tall, quiet boy near the back, scanning the room with sharp eyes. I took a mental note of him. People who watched were either dangerous or just as weird as me.

Then, the door slid open, and our instructor entered.

Middle-aged. Lean but not weak. Standard shinobi flak jacket. Slight tilt to his forehead protector. Hands—scarred.

Fighter.

His presence was calm, controlled. Not the kind that demands attention, but the kind that commands it effortlessly. And considering this room was one filled with kids…

He stopped in front of the class. Let the silence settle. Then, finally—

"I am Saito-sensei. I will be instructing you in ninjutsu and chakra control this year."

Straight to the point. I liked that.

His eyes swept over the class, pausing slightly on the clan students before lingering briefly on me.

I don't like that.

"This class will be different from your previous years," he continued. "You are no longer beginners. From this point forward, you are expected to apply what you have learned—not just memorize hand seals like a script."

Some students straightened in their seats. Others, like Katsuro, remained aggressively slouched.

"Ninjutsu," Saito-sensei said, "is often misunderstood. Many assume it is merely a collection of techniques—hand seals, chakra molding, and the resulting effect. But that is a simplification. A dangerous one."

A brief pause. Then,

"Ninjutsu is a system. A logic. It follows principles. And like any system, it can be manipulated, adapted, and even broken."

That got my attention. Broken, huh?

Well, that was true. I had seen it. We all had.

Saito-sensei let the words settle, watching us. Then, he continued.

"Take the Uchiha, for example."

I saw a couple of heads turn toward the trio sitting near the window. One of them, a boy with sharp features and an air of quiet arrogance, tilted his chin slightly, not quite a smirk, but close.

"Their Sharingan is a perfect example of how the principles of ninjutsu can be… bent." Saito-sensei paced slowly, hands behind his back. "With their Dōjutsu, they can copy almost any jutsu they see, replicating techniques they have never studied. For most shinobi, mastering a new jutsu requires weeks, sometimes months, of trial and error. But an Uchiha?" He turned slightly, letting the class absorb the thought. "They only need a glance."

A few murmurs spread through the room.

"So," he said, raising an eyebrow, "what does that tell us about hand seals?"

Aiko's hand shot up. "That they aren't always necessary?"

"Correct. Hand seals are a tool, a method to mold chakra efficiently. But efficiency is not the same as necessity. The Sharingan allows a user to skip the learning process. It lets them see the mechanics of a technique in real-time and imprint it into their muscle memory almost instantly. This is an example of bending the system."

I rolled my shoulders, glancing at the Uchiha. The boy from earlier was still calm, still composed, but his eyes…they were gleaming.

I bet he's already imagining himself as some major shounen protagonist.

Tsk, kids.

He knew this already. Of course he did.

But Saito-sensei wasn't finished.

"And then, there's the Hyūga Clan."

This time, I caught Hana Hyūga shifting slightly in her seat with her arms folded.

"The Byakugan offers its own advantages," Saito-sensei continued. "While it does not allow the replication of jutsu, it grants the ability to see chakra flow in extreme detail. This makes Hyūga shinobi masters of chakra control. They can manipulate their own flow with pinpoint precision, allowing them to perform feats that would normally take incredible training—or be outright impossible."

"Like what?" Katsuro mumbled, sounding half-interested.

Saito-sensei stopped pacing and faced the class.

"Like blocking an opponent's chakra points with a single touch. Like molding chakra into their palms and releasing it outward in a near-invisible attack. Like controlling their chakra so precisely that they don't even need hand seals for certain techniques."

I exhaled slowly. Right.

The Hyūga didn't copy techniques like the Uchiha. They rewrote the execution.

Most shinobi release chakra through external techniques like fireballs, lightning strikes, or earth walls.

The Hyūga internalize and refine chakra flow, shaping it with their precise control instead of forming hand seals. Their Jūken (Gentle Fist) style uses chakra to attack the body's internal chakra network directly—something most ninjutsu can't do.

"So, to summarize," Saito-sensei said, leaning slightly against his desk, "ninjutsu has rules. But those rules are flexible. Some clans are born with advantages that let them manipulate this system. Others train relentlessly to achieve the same results through sheer effort."

He let that hang in the air before adding:

"And then… there are those who find entirely new ways to break the rules."

I tilted my head slightly. Now that was interesting.

I wasn't a Hyūga. I wasn't an Uchiha. I didn't have a shortcut to mastering ninjutsu.

But if this was a system…

Then there had to be other exploits.

"You already know the two core components of ninjutsu: Chakra and Hand Seals. But tell me—what is the purpose of hand seals?"

Several students sat up, eager to answer. One student looked like they'd win the lottery when Saito-sensei pointed at her.

"To shape chakra into specific forms!" she said confidently.

"Correct," Saito-sensei acknowledged. "Hand seals act as instructions, guiding chakra into a specific pattern to produce an effect. Without them, most jutsus would fail."

Then, he smirked slightly.

"Most. Not all."

A few students exchanged glances. I narrowed my eyes slightly.

"Advanced shinobi," he continued, "can manipulate chakra without hand seals. Some do it through mastery of control. Others through instinct. And then there are those who—"

He stopped, choosing his words carefully.

"—bend the system entirely."

I filed that away immediately. Bend the system? That sounded like something I needed to research extensively and possibly abuse later.

Breaking the system involves disregarding or overriding the rules entirely, making something possible that shouldn't be. Bending the system on the other hand involves exploiting its mechanics in an extreme way but still following the rules.

Saito-sensei clasped his hands behind his back.

"Understanding ninjutsu is more than just memorizing jutsus. It is about understanding the underlying mechanics, how chakra interacts with the world, how different releases shape different outcomes. Only then can you go beyond textbook techniques and truly adapt in battle."

That made sense.

That also meant I had a lot more studying to do.

I glanced sideways at Katsuro. His head was tilted slightly, eyes half-open. He looked bored, but I knew better. He was listening.

On the other side, Aiko was practically vibrating with excitement. She always liked big ideas.

Me? I was thinking.

If ninjutsu was a system, that meant there had to be loopholes. Ways to subvert the rules.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling quietly.

This was going to be an interesting year.