[A/N] – Chakra in This Chapter
Raika attempts to walk a Fold Trail she previously succeeded at — but the terrain now rejects her. This chapter introduces the concept of False Syncing: when a shinobi believes they understand a Fold, but only grasps rhythm, not intention. Raika is injured by a Pulse Echo and confronted with the fear that she has misunderstood her own technique. Her squad is sidelined, Genma is distant, and a real enemy finally appears.
I arrive early.
Genma isn't here.
No scroll. No mission note. Just me and the field.
Which means I'm either being trusted — or tested.
The Fold Trail still lingers, faint but clear. It feels familiar, like the outline of a word I've seen before but never learned to spell.
Yesterday, the terrain breathed with me.
Today, it watches.
Crack. Pull. Hold.
I ease my chakra into the ground, matching yesterday's entry.
Nothing.
I shift weight.
Still nothing.
The fold doesn't respond.
No hum. No pull. Just cold dirt.
I kneel. Press both palms to the trail.
"Come on," I whisper. "We did this already."
It answers.
But not gently.
A pulse slams through my arms — sharp, off-beat. My balance shatters. I fall backward and hit the dirt hard.
My left shoulder screams.
"Raika!"
Takkun's voice. Close.
He's running toward me. Damu's behind him, eyes wide.
I wave them off with my good arm.
"Stay back. It's not stable."
Takkun kneels beside me anyway. "You okay?"
I push myself up, barely. "Shoulder. Fold hit wrong."
Damu looks at the trail. "It didn't flare. It... collapsed."
He's right. The imprint is warped. Like it flinched.
Genma appears. Just materializes from shadow like he's always been there.
He walks past Takkun and Damu. Straight to me.
Kneels. Examines the dirt. Then my shoulder. Then nothing.
"You forced it."
I grit my teeth. "No. I mirrored what worked."
"That's not the same."
He stands. "You're syncing with rhythm. Not with intent."
"What's the difference?"
He walks away. "That's the question."
They leave me alone.
Takkun drags Damu off with some excuse about helping him with shuriken drills. Probably just a way to give me space.
I sit. Breathe.
My chakra won't settle. The Fold pulse is stuck in my arm. Buzzing. Twisting. Wrong.
I stare at the trail.
Not with awe. Not with fear.
With resentment.
"You made me think I understood you."
The trail says nothing.
But it remembers.
I try again. This time without chakra. Just form.
I step into the stance. Bend the knee. Sink the hip. Hold the line.
And something mirrors me.
At the edge of the tree line.
Not a reflection. Not an echo.
A person.
Dressed in gray. Masked. Silent.
They match my posture. Exactly.
And then they step back into the trees.
Gone.
The wind rises.
The Fold hums.
And I realize I was wrong.
This isn't just a memory. Not just a technique.
This is a trail.
And someone else is walking it.
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Every bit of support keeps the Void walking forward.
— void_chakra