The air inside the Academy classroom buzzed with a different kind of energy that morning. Chairs scraped hastily against the floor, conversations popped off from every corner, and even the typically quiet students had an excited gleam in their eyes. Something was coming, something they'd all been waiting for.
Haruki sat near the middle of the room, hands folded over his desk, doing his best not to fidget like the others. But his pulse beat faster than usual. He knew what was coming. Everyone did.
Today was the start of jutsu training.
Their instructor, a lean man in his mid-thirties named Daiki-sensei, entered just as the final bell echoed through the hall. His flak jacket bore the usual scuff marks of an active-duty shinobi, and his dark hair was tied up in a short knot behind his head. He surveyed the class with an unreadable expression before setting a small stack of papers down on the desk.
"Good morning," he said with the gruffness of someone who had likely just come from a patrol shift.
The class responded in a chorus, some louder than others.
"As you all know," Daiki continued, "today begins your formal instruction in basic jutsu. That includes the Clone Jutsu, Transformation Jutsu, and Substitution Jutsu. These form the foundation of your shinobi career. Without them, you are just civilians with a headband."
A few students chuckled nervously.
"You'll each get a scroll with the correct hand seals and theory. Study it. Practice it. Fail. Then try again."
He clapped his hands once, loud enough to command silence.
"Do not expect immediate results. The point is not to master these techniques in a day. The point is to develop discipline. Control. Focus."
He held up one finger. "And if I see anyone slacking off, you'll be personally invited to my early-morning drills." A grin crept across his face. "Trust me, you don't want that."
Haruki believed him.
The scrolls were passed around, and murmurs filled the room as each student unrolled theirs. Haruki's eyes scanned the Clone Jutsu section first: six hand seals, proper chakra distribution, and a reminder to visualize the clone clearly in their mind.
He exhaled slowly. This was it, where real training began.
***
Out in the training yard, the class broke into rough practice groups. Each student had been given a small wooden post as their "target," a way to gauge the success of their jutsu or simply focus their aim.
Haruki knelt in front of his scroll, beside him in the grass, and formed the hand seals slowly: Ram, Snake, Tiger.
"Clone Jutsu!"
Nothing.
Not even a flicker of illusion.
He stared at his empty surroundings, then glanced at the scroll again. He must've misaligned the chakra. It had to be that.
From a few steps away, Jun Ito let out an exaggerated groan. "How do you even see what you're cloning? Like, I don't have a mirror out here!"
Haruki turned and saw Jun flopped on the ground, hair disheveled, face smudged with dirt. His clone, if one could call it that, was a wobbly outline of him, missing its left arm and flickering wildly.
"It looks like a broken ghost of you," Sachi commented dryly, arms crossed.
"And that means it's working!" Jun argued with a grin. "Ghosts are clones, just spooky ones!"
Nearby, Sachi's own clone attempt had managed a brief shimmer before vanishing like smoke in the wind. She didn't say much about it, but her narrowed eyes showed she wasn't giving up.
Haruki smiled at the scene, then turned back to his own post. His second attempt was better, he felt the chakra move this time, but the result was still nothing tangible.
Around the yard, the spectrum of progress was quickly becoming clear.
A few students stood out. One boy, lean and focused with close-cropped brown hair, produced a near-perfect clone on his third try. Another girl, probably from a shinobi family, managed hers with ease, forming the seals in perfect rhythm and calling forth a mirror image beside her.
"Show-off," someone muttered behind Haruki.
Others didn't fare so well. One boy had completely given up and was now poking his clone scroll with a stick, trying to "absorb its secrets." Another pair was attempting hand seals with such speed and inaccuracy that they ended up tangled in each other's arms.
And some, like Haruki, struggled quietly, adjusting, refining, trying again.
***
By midafternoon, Daiki-sensei walked the field with a keen eye. He stopped now and then to observe, occasionally correcting a student's posture or offering terse advice.
When he reached Haruki, the boy stood straight and prepared for another attempt.
"Show me," the teacher said.
Haruki nodded, forming the seals slowly, deliberately: Ram. Snake. Tiger.
"Clone Jutsu!"
A puff of smoke burst beside him, and there, briefly, was a vague outline of his form. The face was wrong, the torso uneven. But it stood.
It stood.
Then it popped out of existence.
Daiki raised an eyebrow. "Acceptable."
Haruki allowed himself a small smile.
"Control needs work. Visual clarity too. But the fundamentals are there."
"Yes, Sensei."
"Don't let the early success get to your head. Most students hit a wall around the Transformation Jutsu."
"I won't."
Daiki grunted approvingly and moved on.
***
Back in the classroom, the end-of-day chatter was livelier than usual. Students compared notes, failed poses, and proud moments alike. The room buzzed with energy, not everyone had succeeded, but all of them felt like shinobi now.
Haruki sat at his desk, scroll rolled neatly in front of him. Sachi sat behind him, scribbling down chakra diagrams in her notes. Jun was already doodling his "ghost clone" and giving it a backstory involving haunting the snack shop for free dumplings.
Haruki turned slightly. "Hey."
Sachi looked up.
"Wanna train again this weekend? The Clone Jutsu."
She blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. We can compare progress. Might help."
Jun leaned over. "Count me in! My ghost clone needs siblings."
Haruki laughed. "Sure. The more the merrier."
***
That evening, as he walked home beneath a sky brushed in gold and blue, Haruki felt something unfamiliar and good settle in his chest.
This was just the beginning of jutsu. He hadn't mastered anything yet. But for the first time, he felt like he was tapping into something deeper, a connection to the shinobi world, to the strength he'd always admired from afar.
He was walking that path now.
And he wasn't alone.