No Shuriken at the Shuriken Target

The damp traces from the sink still clung to their soles as Yamashiro Takuma led the second group toward a corner of the training ground.

Kiyo kept staring down at his feet, as if afraid he would carry those wet streaks somewhere else. A corner of the white bandage on Rina's hand was lifted by the wind. This time, she did not tuck it into her sleeve, only gently pressed it down with her other hand. Keisuke walked ahead, his pace half a beat faster than the order on the roster, his shoulders still tense.

Yamashiro Takuma stopped before the target range. "By the sink, you watched the water, your feet, and the people beside you. It's the same here."

A row of shuriken targets stood in the corner of the training ground.

The targets were honestly old. Their wooden faces were covered in dense scars, some at the center, some near the edges, and a few far from the bullseye, as though the throwers had held personal grudges against the targets.

The moment Kiyo saw the targets, his eyes lit up.

"Can we throw today?"

Yamashiro Takuma said, "No."

Half the light in Kiyo's eyes went out.

"Today, you'll look at the targets, not throw at them," Yamashiro Takuma added.

The other half went out too.

Che, however, was not disappointed. He knew there was plenty to learn from observing targets. The deep marks around the bullseye showed that someone's strength had been steady. The scattered marks along the edges showed that someone's wrist had drifted outward. Several freshly repaired spots beneath the target stand showed that children were often accidentally hurt here. A training ground retained the habits of those who used it, just like the way people walked and spoke.

Mine had the children form a semicircle.

"Shuriken aren't today's lesson," she said. "But you'll learn them someday. Before that, first look at what a target can tell you."

Morita Yu raised his hand. "Who throws accurately."

"What else?"

Saori said softly, "Who throws in a hurry."

Mine nodded. "How can you tell?"

Saori pointed at a patch of messy marks in the upper-right part of the target. "There are a lot there, but they aren't deep."

Yamashiro Takuma glanced at her, as though reassessing this soft-spoken child.

Kiyo said, "I can tell someone missed."

Che said quietly, "That conclusion is very reliable."

Kiyo felt supported.

When it was Che's turn, he did not immediately mention things like center, strength, or angle. Looking at the shaved-down section beneath the target stand, he said, "After someone threw too low, the teacher repaired the stand. That means throwing too low can be dangerous too."

Mine asked, "Dangerous to whom?"

"To the people nearby, and to the people picking up shuriken," Che said.

Yamashiro Takuma nodded. "That's why you learn the safety line before throwing practice."

He drew a line on the ground and had the children stand behind it. There were no shuriken, only wooden chips. Each child took one and mimicked the motions before a throw, but they were not allowed to let go.

Kiyo was in great pain. "This is too much of a test of human nature."

"Ninja training often tests you," Che said.

"Don't make it sound like you enjoy it so much."

Che rubbed the edge of the wooden chip. It was light, unlike a real shuriken with its metallic weight. But the same motions could expose problems. Shoulders, elbows, wrists, eyes, toes—they all told others where you wanted to throw before you even did.

Yamashiro Takuma demonstrated: feet did not cross the line, shoulders did not sway, before throwing you confirmed what was ahead and to either side, and after throwing, you did not rush out immediately to retrieve it.

When Kiyo mimicked the motion, his whole body leaned forward, and his toes crossed the line by half an inch.

Yamashiro Takuma said, "Stop."

Kiyo looked down at his feet. "They moved on their own again."

Che could not help laughing.

When it was Morita Yu's turn, he moved quickly. He did not release the wooden chip, but his wrist flick was obvious. Yamashiro Takuma reminded him, "Your wrist has already told everyone where you want to throw."

Morita Yu looked at Che, as if remembering that in the half-step of the Substitution Technique, you could not look at where you wanted to go first. Che gave a slight nod.

When it was Keisuke's turn, the air tightened again.

Keisuke stood steadily, and his movements were graceful. He had clearly practiced before, or at least watched plenty of throwing drills within his clan. When he raised his hand, several Uchiha children nearby had pride in their eyes. The Konoha children saw it too, and Rina's shoulders shrank again.

Keisuke did not cross the line, nor did he make any unnecessary movements.

Yamashiro Takuma said, "Good form."

The corner of Keisuke's mouth had just begun to move.

Yamashiro Takuma continued, "But your eyes were fixed only on the bullseye. You didn't check the group beside you."

Keisuke's expression stiffened.

That sentence pressed down his pride.

Che saw Keisuke's fingers tighten. If anyone laughed now, the spark would hit the ground at once. Kiyo did not laugh. He only looked nervously at Che, as though afraid Che would say something too sharp again.

Che did not look at Keisuke.

He looked at the repaired marks beside the target stand. "The target will wait for you. The people beside you won't always wait."

It sounded like he was speaking to himself, and like he was turning Yamashiro Takuma's reminder into a lesson summary rather than aiming it at Keisuke.

Mine looked at him.

Keisuke did not argue, but his shoulders tensed further.

At last, it was Che's turn.

He stood behind the line, the wooden chip held between his fingers. Before him was the old target, Kiyo was to his left, Morita Yu to his right, and Saori behind him. There was no real throwing, yet it still felt like a tiny battlefield.

He could do it very steadily.

But being too steady would stand out.

He slowed his movements a little, relaxed his shoulders, swept his gaze over both sides before looking at the bullseye. When he raised his hand, his wrist did not flick too elegantly. The wooden chip remained between his fingers and did not fly out.

Yamashiro Takuma said, "Passable."

Not good, not excellent—just passable.

Che let out half a breath.

Kiyo whispered, "That 'passable' sounds like a great deal."

"Passable is a very precious evaluation," Che said.

When the training ended, Yamashiro Takuma finally brought out a real shuriken.

It was not for the children to use, only for them to see its weight. The metal flashed in the sunlight, its sharpened edge cold. Excitement and fear climbed across Kiyo's face at the same time. Saori took half a step back. Morita Yu reached out and touched the flat side, avoiding the blade. Keisuke watched with great focus.

Che looked at the shuriken and thought of the countless throwing drills at the Ninja Academy in the future. He also thought of Sasuke's movements, so precise they seemed instinctive. As an Uchiha, he would practice this sooner or later. But for now, he could only watch.

Watching was not a waste either.

Yamashiro Takuma put the shuriken away. "Remember, ninja tools won't make judgments for you. Before your hand moves fast, your eyes need to see people."

Che wrote that sentence into his notes.

That night, he added another line:

"Even without shuriken in front of a shuriken target, you can still see many things. Especially when people want to prove themselves."

As he wrote that, he thought of Keisuke's shoulders.

Uchiha pride was not necessarily wrong.

But if you looked only at the bullseye and not at the people beside you, sooner or later, someone would get hurt.

After the simulated throws, Yamashiro Takuma had the children stand to the side of the targets.

From the front, the bullseye was the most noticeable. From the side, they could see the angles at which the shuriken had embedded themselves. Some marks were shallow, some deep, and some had skimmed diagonally across the surface, as though they had only brushed it before bouncing away.

"From the front, you see the result," Yamashiro Takuma said. "From the side, you see the process."

That made something stir in Che's heart.

From the front, Keisuke's movements had looked beautiful. From the side, his eyes had missed the people beside him. From the front, Kiyo's movements had looked messy. From the side, at least he could stop before crossing the line. Saori's movements were slow, and from the front, she did not look crisp enough. From the side, every step she took left room for others.

Yamashiro Takuma had each of them choose a mark and say how it might have been made.

Kiyo chose a deep mark along the bottom edge of the target. "Maybe this person got slapped in the face by the wind before throwing."

Yamashiro Takuma was silent for a moment. "Or maybe their wrist was too low."

"The wind is responsible too," Kiyo insisted.

Saori chose a faint scrape. "Maybe this person pulled back."

"Why?"

"It didn't stick in. It only touched it. Maybe he noticed someone beside him and shifted his hand."

Mine looked at her, her gaze gentle.

Che chose a deep mark beside the bullseye. It was accurate, though not at the exact center, and the force behind it had been strong.

"Maybe this person really wanted to hit the bullseye," Che said. "So the force was enough, but his wrist got ahead of him a little."

Yamashiro Takuma asked, "How do you know what he wanted?"

Che stopped.

He had once again decided what the person behind a mark had felt. A mark could reveal angle and force, but it could not directly reveal what that person wanted to prove. Keisuke's earlier actions had made him care too much about the idea of wanting to prove oneself, to the point that he had stuffed psychology into the target marks too.

Che corrected himself. "I don't know what he wanted. I can only say the force was strong, the angle was close to the bullseye, and his wrist may have gotten ahead of him."

Yamashiro Takuma nodded. "Say only as much as you see. Don't write speculation as fact."

That sentence was like another line pressed onto Che's notes.

That night, he wrote:

"Target marks can only reveal the marks themselves. They cannot directly reveal a person's heart. Speculation must be clearly labeled."

This was important for the future.

He knew too many old memories, so he often worked backward from the outcome to a person's heart. But a real person might leave an off-target mark because of the wind, fear, a sore hand, or someone beside them. If he treated guesses as facts, sooner or later, it would lead him to misjudge someone.