Stop Before Five Breaths

When the second water-bowl lesson began, Kiyo raised his hand early.

Uchiha Mione had just set out the shallow bowls when she saw him holding his hand perfectly straight before she could speak, as if he were afraid that if he was any slower, chakra would drag him off to an early shift.

"Uchiha Kiyo," Mione said. "What's your question?"

Kiyo said solemnly, "Sensei, I won't say chakra hates early shifts today."

The storeroom fell silent for a breath.

Uchiha Che lowered his head to stare at his knees, trying hard to keep his face innocent.

Mione looked at him. "Did you teach him that?"

"Sensei, this time it really wasn't me."

"Last time, it was you."

"You can't hold someone endlessly accountable for historical mistakes."

Mione narrowed her eyes slightly.

Che immediately added, "I'll practice seriously."

Several children couldn't help laughing. Mione did not pursue the matter further and merely tapped the wooden table. "Today, we'll continue practicing holding chakra in your palm. The older children can try to make slight ripples on the water's surface. The younger children should still focus on stability. Remember, stability isn't about forcing it."

As she said the last sentence, her gaze fell on Che.

Uchiha Che placed the wooden plaque with the word "Stop" on it beside his knee.

His goal today was clear: push his actual training to five breaths while keeping the public record at three to four breaths. That range could not look too impressive, but neither could his progress be too slow. Too impressive would draw attention, while too slow would affect the trajectory of becoming stronger reasonably in the future.

It sounded like he was plotting a performance curve for his own life.

Che found it a little absurd, so he mocked himself inwardly: After transmigrating into the ninja world, even hiding my abilities has to be sustainable development.

But he did not laugh.

Mione began demonstrating. The chakra hovering above her palm was as thin as an invisible mist. The water's surface was still at first, then as she gently adjusted her breathing, a slow ring of ripples appeared. The ripples were neither hurried nor large. They spread along the bowl's edge before gradually settling.

"What you see is the water moving," Mione said. "What I want you to remember is why the water did not move chaotically. When chakra is released, impatience makes it scatter, fear makes it break, and stubbornness makes it surge outward."

When Che heard the words "stubbornness," his fingers paused at the edge of the wooden plaque.

He held his right hand over the edge of the bowl but did not place it above the water. Chakra rose from his abdomen and traveled along his arm toward his palm. After the past few days of training, the path had become much more familiar. The warmth no longer crashed about as wildly as it had at first, yet it still carried an urge to stretch outward.

One breath.

His palm grew faintly warm.

Two breaths.

The warmth spread out, like a thin sheet of paper pressed beneath his skin.

Three breaths.

He should stop.

Stopping here would be best for the public record.

But today's real goal was not three breaths.

Che continued to suppress his breathing, keeping the chakra in his palm without pressing it toward the water. During the fourth breath, his old shoulder injury sent over a faint ache, like someone lightly touching it with the tip of a needle. Before the fifth breath arrived, the heat in his palm suddenly shot toward his fingertips.

He immediately withdrew his hand.

The water did not move.

But his fingertips went numb.

Mione walked over to him. "How many breaths?"

"Just over three," Che answered.

"The real number?"

The question was asked softly.

Che raised his head, keeping a puzzled look in his eyes. "I'm not very good at counting."

Mione did not expose him. She only looked at his fingertips. "Don't force chakra into your fingertips. Your chakra pathways can't withstand that yet."

"Will it get damaged?"

"Not in the short term. But if you do it too often, it'll hurt. If it hurts too much, you'll develop bad habits."

Che nodded.

That was worth remembering.

Bad habits were more troublesome than a single bout of pain. Learning ninjutsu was not simply a matter of understanding every technique and being able to replicate it. The body remembered mistakes, and chakra followed those mistakes too. His system-like ability to analyze things could break structures apart, but it could not make his arm grow up faster or make his chakra pathways bear the cost for him.

Beside him, Kiyo began practicing. He closed his eyes tightly, his lips pressed together, looking as though he were negotiating with some uncooperative fellow inside his body. Nothing happened in the first round. In the second, his palm warmed for an instant. Rather than yelping like last time, he carefully lowered his hand.

"It didn't run away so quickly today," Kiyo murmured.

Che said, "A clear improvement in attitude."

Mione's gaze swept over.

Che swallowed the rest of his sentence.

Saori performed more steadily today than last time. She made the water move twice, the ripples tiny, yet she did not lose control because she had succeeded. Each time she withdrew her hand, she first looked at her doll, as though confirming that someone was beside her.

During the third round of practice, Che switched to his left hand.

His right fingertips were still numb. Continuing to practice would leave traces. His left-hand control was weaker, which fit his public performance perfectly. He kept chakra in his palm for two and a half breaths before stopping, then wrote "two to three breaths" in the record.

Mione collected the record sheets. When she saw his writing, she paused.

"Why did you regress today?"

Che raised his right hand and shook it. "My hand's numb."

"Why is it numb?"

"Maybe it doesn't really approve of me improving."

Mione did not smile. "Or maybe you tried to go past where you should have stopped."

The sounds in the storeroom faded.

Che looked at her.

Mione placed the record sheet back before him. "Uchiha children easily misunderstand one thing. When they see fire, they want to make it burn bigger. When they see that their eyes can see clearly, they want to see farther. But this control class is not about forcing yourselves to the limit. What you need to learn now is to stop before the limit."

Those words were like the word on Nao's wooden plaque, rewritten once more.

Che lowered his head. "Understood."

"Write it down."

So he wrote at the bottom of the record sheet:

"Stop before five breaths."

After reading it, Mione nodded and walked away.

After class, Kiyo leaned over. "Did you really reach five breaths?"

Che folded the paper. "Almost."

"How close?"

"As close as a right hand that isn't numb."

Kiyo seemed to understand, yet not quite. "Is that far?"

"For me right now, it's a little far."

Saori passed by with her doll in her arms and suddenly said, "Your right hand lasted longer than the record."

Che froze.

Saori did not look at him, only at her doll. "I counted."

Kiyo's eyes widened. "Why were you counting Che?"

"Because he always says he isn't good at counting," Saori said.

Uchiha Che fell silent.

Great.

His plan to hide his abilities had been partially cracked by a four-year-old classmate.

He crouched down and looked seriously at Saori. "Then what do you think I should do?"

Saori thought for a moment. "Don't let your hand go numb. Sensei will notice if it does."

Kiyo added, "And it'll hurt."

Che looked at the two children. One worried about being exposed, the other worried about pain. Put together, their two answers sounded like a complete reminder.

"That makes sense," he said. "Starting today, I'll respect my right hand's opinion."

Kiyo nodded. "Does your right hand go to work too?"

Mione called from afar, "Uchiha Kiyo."

Kiyo immediately shut his mouth.

That afternoon, Che made private notes in his room.

"Right hand: four and a half breaths, close to five, fingertips numb."

"Left hand: two and a half breaths."

"Mione's reminder: stop before the limit."

"Saori counts me. Strong observation skills."

As he wrote that line, he did not classify Saori as a danger. Instead, he added another line:

"Companions are not background. They can see me hiding my abilities too."

It made him feel a little uncomfortable.

He had originally thought that what he needed to guard against most were the Anbu, Root, Konoha's higher-ups, and major events in the future. But in real life, the people who noticed his abnormalities were often not those lofty shadows, but the children sitting beside him, Nao bringing him meals, and Mione teaching the class.

They bore him no ill will, yet they could see him all the same.

Being seen like this was dangerous, yet it also made his heart soften.

After evening training ended, Nao saw him rubbing his right hand. She asked nothing and merely pushed a bowl of warm water toward him.

"Soak it for a while."

Che obediently put his hand into it.

The warm water covered his knuckles, and the numbness slowly faded. He looked at the water's surface and remembered the ripples Mione had controlled during the day. The path of ninjutsu was not merely about pushing power outward. It also meant knowing when not to push.

The fire of Nine-Tails Night, the Fourth Hokage's Flying Raijin, the Uchiha's Sharingan, the future Mangekyo Sharingan and Rinnegan—all of them were still far away from him.

Today, his world was only a bowl of water, a numb hand, and a sentence that had to be written down.

Stop before five breaths.

Before sleeping, he tried moving his right hand again. His fingertips were still a little sluggish, as though they had not fully awakened after being softened by warm water. Che tucked his hand back beneath the blanket and did not draw on chakra again.

Being able to stop today meant he had truly taken a step forward.