Half a Step of the Substitution Technique

Mine finally began explaining the Substitution Technique, and Kiyo nearly rose from his stool.

Not because he was too excited to control himself, but because he had thought that today he would actually get to switch places with a piece of wood.

Mine saw right through him. "Sit down. Today, we're only covering half a step."

More than half of Kiyo's excitement was cut away. "A technique can be taught in half a step?"

"It can," Mine said. "Especially for people like you, who tend to treat half a step like ten."

Che set his pencil by the edge of the paper, but he was even more tense than Kiyo. He had waited too long for this lesson. The words Substitution Technique had spun through his mind countless times, becoming more and more like a door. Behind that door were escape, misdirection, smoke, and the distant shadow of Flying Raijin in the future. He knew he could not rush, but knowing that did not mean his body was not impatient.

Mine did not form any hand seals.

She first drew two dots on the board: one labeled "person," the other "object." She drew a short line between them, then an eye beside it.

"Many people think the Substitution Technique means a person and an object switch places," she said. "That isn't entirely wrong, but it's too crude. What you really need to understand first is this: what does the enemy see, and what do they not see? Where are you standing, and where is the substitute object? Can your body complete the movement in that instant? Can smoke, obstacles, and sightlines conceal the flaw?"

Kiyo raised his hand. "So the wood doesn't actively help?"

"No."

"Then the wood is just being arranged?"

"So are you," Mine said. "If you judge wrongly, the enemy will arrange you."

Che lowered his head and wrote that down.

Arranged by the enemy.

That was closer to the true nature of ninjutsu than "dodging an attack." The Substitution Technique was not merely escaping. It was planting a wrong answer in the enemy's perception. But if he let himself get carried away by the opponent's rhythm first, substitution would become a death sentence.

Mine had them stand and form two lines. At the front of the classroom were three items: a short log, an old cloth bundle, and an empty water bucket. Each child had to choose one and explain whether it was suitable as a substitute object.

Kiyo chose the short log first. "Because it's classic."

Mine asked, "Why is it classic?"

Kiyo froze.

Che quietly prompted from beside him, "Because it's sturdy."

Kiyo immediately picked it up. "Because it's sturdy! And because it won't cry out in pain."

Mine glanced at Che. Che immediately lowered his head and pretended he was nothing but wind.

Saori chose the old cloth bundle. She said it was light and could be placed in a corner beforehand, but being too light also meant it could be blown by the wind. She spoke slowly, but thought things through more carefully than many others. Mine nodded and had her add, "What if you put stones inside the bundle?" Saori thought for a moment and said it would weigh more like a person, but it would also make a different sound when it hit the ground.

Che chose the empty water bucket.

Not because it was suitable, but because it was not.

"The bucket is too loud," he said. "Its surface reflects light, and it's hard to control which way it rolls. Unless there are already many buckets around, or you deliberately want to make noise, it isn't suitable for a quiet substitution."

Mine asked, "What if the enemy is already very close behind you?"

Che paused. "You could use it to fool their ears, make them think I went toward the sound. But only if I have some other cover. Otherwise, the bucket can make all the noise it wants, and I still won't get away."

Several children in the classroom looked at him.

That answer was still too complicated for someone his age. Realizing that, Che added, "Simply put, the bucket is too noisy, unless you want it to be noisy."

Kiyo nodded. "I get that. It suits me."

Mine rubbed her forehead. "Do not put yourself and a water bucket in the same category."

In the latter half of the lesson, Mine finally taught them "half a step."

No hand seals, no chakra—just practicing the first motion of leaving one's original position. Lift the heel lightly, lower the center of gravity, do not let the shoulders reveal the direction first, and do not stare at the substitute object. She had the children stand inside circles drawn on the floor. When they heard the sound of a wooden board, they had to withdraw half a step diagonally backward, then return to their original positions.

It looked like ordinary footwork.

But by his third attempt, Che knew where the difficulty lay.

A person's eyes would look toward where they wanted to go first. Their shoulders would turn toward safety first. Their feet would reveal the route in advance. Half a step meant not writing the answer out for others before leaving.

Every time Kiyo stepped back, he looked at the log.

Mine said, "If you keep looking at it, the enemy will look at it too."

Kiyo looked aggrieved. "I'm afraid I'll step on it."

"Whatever you fear, your eyes will betray."

Che's fingers curled slightly at those words.

The practice quickly became less fun than the children had imagined.

Mine drew three circles on the floor and placed an object beside each one. The short log was on the left, the cloth bundle on the right, and the empty water bucket behind them. She did not let them touch any of the objects, only withdraw half a step from the circles. Yet the more they were forbidden from touching them, the more those objects seemed to pull at their eyes.

When Kiyo withdrew, his gaze always drifted toward the short log. Mine removed it, and he started staring at the empty spot instead.

"The object is gone, and you're still looking?" Mine asked.

Kiyo himself looked confused. "I remember it being there."

Che felt a faint jolt at those words.

Remembering it being there.

That was more troublesome than seeing it. One could close one's eyes, but memories would light up on their own. The timeline in his memories, the turns waiting in the future, the Uchiha massacre, Naruto entering the Academy, Sasuke awakening his eyes, Itachi's choice—all of it was like a short log already placed beside the circle. Even if reality temporarily removed those things, he would still instinctively look there.

Mine had Kiyo rest, then called Saori up.

Saori withdrew slowly, and her shoulders moved slowly too, but she did not look at the cloth bundle. Mine asked her why.

Saori said, "I listen to the bell. If it doesn't ring, I don't need to look."

"What if the enemy deliberately makes sure it doesn't ring?"

Saori hugged her doll tightly and thought for a long time. "Then I look at my feet."

Mine nodded. "It's fine to be slower. Just don't lose the line."

Che wrote, "Memories can also betray your direction," in the corner of his paper, then immediately crossed out half of it. It sounded too much like an adult's conclusion, unsuitable to hand in. He changed it to: "Thinking something is there can also make you look wrong."

It was clumsier, but more like who he was now.

When it was his turn, Mine did not strike the board right away. She first had him stand inside the circle. The circle was small, its edge marked in charcoal ash. The slightest movement of his toes would brush against it. Wind blew outside the window, and an old mirror in the classroom was covered with cloth, leaving only a little of one corner exposed.

The wooden board sounded.

Che withdrew half a step. His foot landed lightly, and his shoulders did not turn first. The movement was almost acceptable.

Yet Mine said, "Again."

Che returned to his place.

The second time, the board sound came half a beat later. That answer written in advance inside him surfaced again. His toes wanted to move, but he forced them still. Only when the real sound came did he withdraw. The movement was a little slower.

Mine nodded. "That was better."

Kiyo did not understand. "But the first time was obviously faster."

"Fast doesn't mean good," Mine said. "Just now, he was waiting for a sound from his imagination. This time, he waited for the real sound."

Che lowered his head and looked at the charcoal circle.

He had been seen through again.

It was not shame, or not only shame. It was more like a layer of skin had been gently peeled back, letting him see that he was the same in many other ways. Waiting for imagined enemies, waiting for things in his memories, waiting for points in time that had already been written in old memories. But the real sound was often half a beat late. It could also come half a beat early, or even from another direction entirely.

After class, Mine had everyone write one limitation of the Substitution Technique they had learned today.

Kiyo wrote: "The log will not save me on its own."

Saori wrote: "Don't look where you want to go first."

Che wrote: "Half a step is not escape. It is not revealing the direction of escape in advance."

After reading it, Mine was silent for a moment. "You can keep that one."

Then she called Che over to the classroom door.

From there, they could see the row of wooden posts by the training ground and the distant fence. Mine did not lower her voice so much that only he could hear, but she did not let the entire classroom hear clearly either.

"You held back from asking about hand seals today," she said.

Che blinked. "Did I look like I wanted to ask?"

"You spent the whole lesson like you were biting down on a question behind your teeth."

Che touched his face. "I'll pay more attention to dental management in the future."

Mine did not let him steer her off course. "Wanting to learn is not wrong. Turning that desire into getting ahead by cutting corners is. Your understanding is already deeper than that of many children. If you cut ahead, you may be faster in the short term, but in the long term, you'll become confused."

Che fell silent.

Mine looked toward the training ground. "The Three Basic Techniques are fundamentals, but the greatest danger with fundamentals is thinking you understand them when you do not. Especially the Substitution Technique. Used well, it can save your life. Used poorly, it can make someone think they are already safe, then get them killed on the next step."

Those last few words were too cold. If Kiyo had heard them, he probably would have gone quiet for a long time. Che heard them, and he too fell silent.

Mine said, "You'll have many chances to learn techniques in the future. For now, learn to stop where you should stop."

"I know," Che said softly.

"Not know," Mine said. "Do it."

Those two words were harder than any explanation of ninjutsu.

That night, Che did not practice hand seals.

He only drew a small charcoal circle in the room and stood inside it, listening to Kiyo turn over in his sleep, Saori's bell, patrolling footsteps, and the wind brushing against the window paper. Every sound might make his feet move, but not every sound required his feet to move.

Nao passed by, saw him standing in the circle, and asked, "Are you being punished?"

"I'm learning not to be fooled by myself."

Nao glanced at the circle. "Don't make the floor black."

"That reminder is very practical."

"Practical reminders are more useful."

Che smiled and lowered his head to wipe away the charcoal ash.

Today, the Substitution Technique had only covered half a step.

But that half step was enough for him to practice for a very long time.