Taijutsu demonstration

Friday's Taijutsu class had reached the demonstration segment again.

Iruka stood in front of the class with the roll book in hand. "Today, we're assessing basic Taijutsu. This is a test of proper form. Each of you will perform a set of the Basic Fist Technique in front of me, and I'll grade you."

A stir ran through the students. Some were nervous; others didn't care.

Kiyoshi stood among them, his face expressionless. He had been training on the Back Mountain lately. Although he hadn't systematically practiced the Basic Fist Technique, all his work on the Instinctive Fist Technique had taught him a little about generating force, shifting his weight, and coordinating his footwork.

Sasuke went first.

Sasuke walked up to Iruka, planted his feet, and assumed the opening stance. His movements were crisp, his punches powerful, and his retractions steady. By the time he finished the set, even his breathing hadn't changed.

Iruka nodded. "A. Sasuke, keep it up."

Sasuke gave a quiet acknowledgment and returned to the class without a change in expression. A few students beside him whispered, "That's the Uchiha genius for you." Sasuke heard them, and the corner of his mouth twitched, but he said nothing.

Kiyoshi stood among the students and watched, expressionless.

Several more students took their turns. Some earned Bs, some Cs. One was so nervous that he moved the arm and leg on the same side together, making a complete mess of the routine. Iruka gave him a D and told him to practice more after class.

"Next. Uchiha Kiyoshi."

Kiyoshi stepped forward.

He felt the students' gazes converge on him all at once.

They weren't exactly looks of encouragement. They seemed more like, Let's see what this Bro Hao can actually do.

Nakajima stood at the back with his arms folded, his expression challenging. Go on. I'll watch you make a fool of yourself.

Kiyoshi ignored him.

He walked up to Iruka and planted his feet.

"Begin."

He took a deep breath and started.

First punch: his waist turned, his fist shot out, and his form was correct.

Second punch: he steadied his weight, and his footwork followed.

Third punch, fourth punch, fifth punch. The more he threw, the smoother it felt, his movements growing increasingly fluid.

There wasn't a trace of stiffness in his form. Perhaps he was one of those legendary Taijutsu prodigies.

He completed the final closing sequence and lowered his hands.

The training ground went quiet for two seconds.

Iruka's hand stopped on his clipboard. He looked at Kiyoshi in silence for several seconds.

"...Have you practiced?"

Kiyoshi lowered his hands. "A little."

"How much?"

"A few days after school."

That was true. He did train on the Back Mountain after school. He simply practiced the Instinctive Fist Technique rather than the Basic Fist Technique.

But generating force, shifting weight, and coordinating footwork were principles they shared. With enough practice, his body naturally remembered them.

Iruka glanced at him, then looked down at the grading criteria on his clipboard. He wrote a few strokes before raising his head. "Correct form, continuous power delivery. Grade: A. Keep it up."

Kiyoshi nodded and returned to the class.

The students were unnaturally quiet.

He heard people whispering.

"An A? Iruka-sensei hardly ever gives those."

"Has he secretly been taking lessons?"

"No, I saw him running toward the Back Mountain last time..."

"The Uchiha really are..."

"What are you talking about? Sasuke's an Uchiha too, but Kiyoshi's set just now was even smoother than his..."

"Shh-keep it down. Sasuke's right up front."

Kiyoshi kept his face blank and pretended not to hear.

But something was on his mind too: when he'd performed the set, it really had felt much smoother than before. It wasn't his imagination. His body obeyed him better now, his power flowed more smoothly, and his balance was steadier.

When did that start?

He thought about it.

It was probably the result of going to the Back Mountain to train every day lately.

In his previous life, he'd worked out every day to find a girlfriend, with at least two kilometers of running as part of his daily routine.

He didn't have to run now, but he practiced his punches every day, and his body had gradually adapted to this way of generating force.

He looked down at his hands.

Not bad.

The system panel appeared the moment he returned to the class.

[Grade A achieved in Taijutsu assessment. Face value +170 (Chunin Iruka: 80 + 9 classmates: 10 × 9 = 90). Awkwardness value +30 (felt a little awkward himself). Totals: awkwardness value 760, face value 820.]

He glanced at the numbers and casually closed the panel, his expression unchanged.

[System notification: Face-slapping achieved in Taijutsu class. Recommendation: next time, say "I've practiced a hundred million little bits" for better results.]

His awkwardness value was rising slowly, but his face value was increasing pretty fast. He did the math. With a little more saving, his next ten-pull should be close.

When class ended, Sasuke walked up to him.

"Where did you learn that set of punches?"

Kiyoshi looked up at him. "Practiced on my own."

"You got to an A by practicing on your own?"

"What else?"

Sasuke stared at him for a while, his gaze scrutinizing. Kiyoshi let him look, his face blank.

After a moment, Sasuke said, "Monday after school. Meet me at the training ground."

Kiyoshi blinked. "What for?"

"A fight."

"..."

"Are you scared?"

Kiyoshi remained expressionless and silent for two seconds. He really didn't want to fight.

It wasn't because he was afraid of losing. Winning would bring trouble, and losing would bring trouble too. But with someone like Sasuke, turning him down would only make him more persistent.

"...Fine."

Sasuke nodded and turned to leave. After a few steps, he looked back and added, "I won't hold back."

Kiyoshi watched him walk away.

This kid is way too competitive.

A voice came from behind him.

"Nakajima, he just got an A."

"I'm not blind."

Nakajima stood at the edge of the training ground with two lackeys, looking toward Kiyoshi.

Nakajima looked unhappy, as though watching Kiyoshi earn an A had soured his mood.

Kiyoshi glanced at him without speaking, then lowered his head to pack his things.

Then he heard one of Nakajima's lackeys say, "Has he been practicing in secret?"

"He trains on the Back Mountain every evening."

"How do you know?"

"I've trained on the Back Mountain too... Ah, not on purpose. Just once."

Nakajima was speechless. His lackey was secretly getting stronger. How could he let that slide?

The corner of Kiyoshi's mouth twitched, but he held back his laugh.

After school, Kiyoshi walked home alone.

The setting sun stretched his shadow long. Shops along the street were closing up, someone was splashing water and sweeping outside their door, and the smell of dinner drifted through the air. He walked slowly, thinking about tomorrow.

Sasuke had challenged him to a fight.

He had to figure out how to handle it.

He couldn't win too easily. Sasuke's pride wouldn't take it, and he'd pester Kiyoshi for endless rematches.

He couldn't lose too obviously either. Sasuke wasn't stupid; he'd see straight through an unconvincing performance.

Ideally, he would draw or scrape out a narrow win, leaving Sasuke thinking, I almost had him, so he'd go home satisfied and keep practicing, then challenge him again tomorrow.

He sighed.

Having to consider a seven-year-old's feelings while fighting him... Life is exhausting.

But on second thought, building a good relationship with Sasuke could prove useful later.

Sasuke was one of the key figures in the events of the massacre night. Though he was still young, that connection would come into play sooner or later.

Kiyoshi thought it over and decided to aim for a draw tomorrow.

Then he'd see how Sasuke reacted.

[System notification: Face value +30 (Sasuke took you seriously). Total face value has reached 850. Another 150 required for the next ten-pull. Recommendation: continue engaging in Jiahao behavior to accelerate currency accumulation.]

When he got home, Misa was cooking in the kitchen.

"You're back? Why are you late today?"

"Taijutsu class ran a little long."

"Oh. Wash your hands and come eat. I made your favorite today."

Kiyoshi washed his hands and sat at the table. Misa brought out the dishes: stir-fried greens, braised pork, and a bowl of miso soup. Ordinary home cooking, but it smelled wonderful.

He picked up a piece of braised pork, put it in his mouth, and chewed.

Pretty good.

He ate a few bites, still thinking about tomorrow. He'd seen Sasuke's Taijutsu in class. His fundamentals were solid and his form was correct, but his approach was straightforward and lacked flexibility.

If they really fought tomorrow, he only needed to defend, wait for Sasuke to get impatient and expose an opening, then seize the opportunity.

"Why are you so distracted today?"

Kiyoshi looked up and saw Misa watching him.

"It's nothing. I'm thinking about tomorrow."

"What's happening tomorrow?"

"Sasuke challenged me to a fight."

Misa's chopsticks paused. She glanced at him. "Sasuke? The clan head's son?"

"Yeah."

"Why did he challenge you?"

"I got an A in Taijutsu class today, and his competitive streak kicked in."

Kazuhiko smiled. "Hey, you're pretty good, kid. You've got some of my old flair."

Misa frowned and asked worriedly, "Are you confident?"

Kiyoshi thought for a moment. "I should be able to manage a draw."

Misa glanced at him and didn't press further. She only said, "Just don't get hurt."

"Okay."

After dinner, Kiyoshi returned to his room and sat on the edge of the bed.

He looked down at his hands.

That sensation had returned while he was throwing punches today. His body obeyed him better than before, as though some switch had been flipped. He tried clenching his fist, relaxing it, then clenching it again.

It wasn't my imagination.

I really have gotten stronger.

He didn't know where his current abilities ranked among six-year-olds, but at least he was much stronger than when he'd first transmigrated.

Back then, even a short run left him winded. Now, at least, he could complete an entire fist technique routine.

He lay down with his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.

I still have to fight Sasuke tomorrow.

I need to figure out how to handle it.

But his mind was a jumble. He thought about tomorrow, then chakra, then the massacre night, and ended up figuring out none of it.

He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.

Forget it. I'll deal with it tomorrow.