Two months passed while I was occupied with my training, and I made major improvements in all aspects. Who knew? Turns out, training relentlessly without breaks is actually bad for you. Spacing things out and making sure you take care of yourself is better in the long run. I was almost back to my normal self again, refreshed and content.
As for my fuinjutsu training, I was finally approaching the level where I could form my first functional seals. Master Shuzo didn't openly acknowledge it, hint at it, or express approval in any noticeable way, but I could sense it. He was impressed by my progress.
Today, he sat across from me like an ancient, skeletal judge presiding over a court session that weighed the sum of my life's accomplishments. A fresh sealing tag lay between us, held down by two paperweights that might as well have been relics from the Warring States period.
"Begin," he said simply, his voice dry as bark scraping against stone.
No pressure or anything.
I took a slow breath, grounding myself. The tag before me was blank. Clean. Untouched. In about five minutes, I would either ruin it with chakra-infused ink and the desperate optimism of a first-time seal user, or get smacked by a paperweight for failing.
The black ink I used wasn't ordinary ink, obviously. This was chakra-conductive ink. Highly specialized and absurdly expensive.
Master Shuzo's words echoed in my head. "The ink is a mirror. Pour your soul and intent into it. If your will or control is too weak or wavers, you fail. Consistency, resilience, and resolve are the key."
I steadied my breathing and reached out with my chakra, gently dipping it into the ink. Not flooding it, just touching it softly, like easing my fingers into cold water. The brush resisted at first. It always did. But after a moment, it accepted the chakra flow, stabilizing as it absorbed the charge.
As soon as I moved the brush toward the tag, my hands felt heavier, not physically, but with the weight of expectation. The storage seal formula Shuzo had given me was simple on paper. just a basic compression loop designed to hold a small object, like a coin or a pebble. But every stroke had to be perfect. The spiral ratios, the symmetry, the precise way the chakra bled into the paper, absurdly precise.
I began with the outer ring, drawing a smooth, slow arc. I kept my chakra steady, gently feeding it into the brush with controlled precision. Next came the inner structure. Two crossing lines, a triangle, and finally, the containment symbol that anchored the seal.
Halfway through, I felt my chakra control hiccup for a fraction of a second.
I paused, my hand hovering just above the paper. One wrong move, and the entire seal would collapse on itself, the chakra becoming a tangled, useless mess. Even worse, the seal might trigger prematurely, burning the expensive ink into ash. Master Shuzo would definitely punish me for wasting the village's precious resources.
"Adjust," Shuzo said quietly behind me. "Your chakra flow is surging. Pull it back. Let the brush feel balanced. Apply both your chakra and ink evenly."
I did as he instructed, carefully correcting the chakra flow. It was like threading a needle while holding my breath underwater.
With a final exhale, I completed the last spiral and lifted the brush. The seal shimmered faintly, not brightly enough to glow, but enough to react subtly. Still slightly unstable, but intact.
Shuzo leaned forward, slowly opening one eye, allowing me to clearly see it for the first time. Honestly, I'd always assumed there'd be nothing there, given that he usually kept them closed. Instead, I saw a cloudy, nearly opaque white film covering his eye. I wasn't sure if it was from age or a medical condition. He was probably older than the First Hokage at this point, judging by his appearance.
He closed his eye again, drawing my attention back to the task. "Place something small inside," he instructed.
I pulled a stone about the size of a coin from my pocket and placed it carefully in the center of the seal.
Now came the part that would either make me incredibly proud or blow up in my face.
I formed the hand seal he'd taught me, Boar, and pushed a tiny pulse of chakra into the tag.
The stone vanished with a soft hiss, as though someone had sucked the air right out of the room.
My heart skipped a beat. It actually worked.
Excitement surged through me, and I immediately jumped around in happiness. Sure, mentally I was over twenty, but how often does someone get to use actual seals for dimensional storage? How cool is that? I thought Master Shuzo would smack me to calm me down as he usually did, but apparently, he considered the first successful seal a big enough milestone to let me celebrate.
After a long moment, I sensed he was getting irritated, so I stopped my little dance, deciding I'd celebrate later with Shizuru. She was definitely more fun to hang around than this ancient mummy.
Then Shuzo spoke, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Good job, child. Reaching this milestone within two months is indeed impressive. Your comprehension is far beyond your years."
My eyes widened into saucers. "Master Shuzo, did you just compliment me? That's the first time you've praised me since I started learning!"
His hand twitched toward a paperweight, and I quickly stopped talking.
"Don't let it get to your head," he warned sternly. "Many students have, only to stagnate afterward. They give up because they can't overcome the reality that some things are genuinely difficult to master. If you want to reach the highest levels of fuinjutsu, you must maintain your drive and never give up, even when facing seemingly insurmountable walls."
I nodded seriously. "I understand, Master. I'm not foolish enough to fall for such an obvious hurdle."
He sighed, sounding tired. "That's enough for today. You can leave now. We'll meet again tomorrow at the usual time."
I was already halfway out the door before he finished speaking. Behind me, I could practically feel his eyebrow trying and failing to twitch, his ancient skin too stiff to properly convey his annoyance.
After Noa was gone, Master Shuzo stared thoughtfully at the seal he had left behind and muttered softly to himself, "Hiruzen and Daiken weren't wrong. This child has terrifying potential and a frightening comprehension. Perhaps their high assessment and expectations of him are not too far from reality."