Chương 28: Fast Travel Unlocked

After memorizing every word of the scroll, I reluctantly placed it back on the shelf. I couldn't take it with me. These weren't Academy textbooks. These were village property. Secret techniques. Stuff you don't walk out with unless you want to wake up in an interrogation room. I left. Then immediately came back for a final glance. Just a quick one. The ancient librarian narrowed his eyes at me like he was seconds away from turning into a final boss, so I made sure my second visit was short. Then I left for real.

Excited and jittery like I'd just downed five cups of sugar water, I headed straight for the usual small forest. Lightning Release: Flicker Step. A movement technique. My first official ninjutsu. Not teleportation. Not magic. Just raw chakra control and suicidal leg twitching. I took a deep breath, channeled chakra into my legs, and aimed it toward the soles of my feet. Thin layer. No flooding. High-frequency vibration. Controlled current. No sudden hospital visits. A sharp tingle ran up my calf.

"Okay… we're buzzing. That's… something." I took a step. Big mistake. My foot blasted off like it was trying to break the sound barrier. I stumbled forward like a newborn giraffe on stilts and nearly headbutted a tree.

"Too much juice. Noted." Reset. I gathered chakra again, this time gentler. Softer hum. Ripple, not shockwave. The trick was rhythm. The scroll had made it sound easy. It was not. I stepped again. Half a blink later, I was face-first in the dirt, chewing moss.

"Okay. Direction control. We're working on it." I spat out a leaf and sat up. Still breathing. Technically a win. Ten more tries. Some better. Most not. A couple almost killed me. Attempt number eleven? I flickered forward maybe two meters. No tree collisions. No faceplants. Just a very shaky crouch and a whole lot of leg twitching. Progress. Exhausting, chakra-draining, muscle-burning progress. I collapsed onto a mossy patch and stared at the canopy above, chest rising and falling.

My whole body felt like it had been mildly electrocuted, which… fair. The concept was working. The technique was sound. I just had to teach my meatbag of a body how to keep up. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Remember, Baby steps," I muttered.

"Electrified baby steps." I closed my eyes for a minute or two, letting the forest return to its usual ambiance. Birds chirped again. A breeze stirred the leaves. Even the mosquitoes backed off, probably out of pity. I got up. One more time. Chakra to the soles. Thin layer. Pulse at the step. I didn't overthink it. I just moved. Surge. Blur. Flicker. Three meters. Clean. Controlled. Landed on both feet. No falling. No faceplants. No torn hamstring. I landed steady. I grinned like an idiot.

"Okay. Now we're getting somewhere." Still rough. Still not battle-ready. But I'd found the rhythm. And once you feel it once, you can find it again. And again. I kept practicing until the sun went down. Dozen more bursts. Short flickers, refining my angle and speed. My legs were crying. My calves were weeping. Even my toes were begging for mercy. But I was grinning like a maniac. I picked up my bag and started walking home, legs shaking with every step.

The technique needed months of refining, but the foundation was there. I was finally a real shinobi-in-training. As I neared my flat, I spotted a familiar figure standing near the entrance. Shizuru. She waved when she saw me, then immediately frowned. I approached her, still winded. Before I could say a word, she grumbled, "You were supposed to meet me today. Tutoring, then physical training. You vanished." I grinned.

"I had something important to do." She looked me up and down.

"What, wrestle bears? You look like you just fought a war." I chuckled.

'I did, actually. Once. But you are close enough" Honestly, she'd made real progress lately. After a month of physical training, she could actually finish Daiken's brutal exercises without collapsing. Not that I'd ever tell her that directly. She huffed.

"You should honor your commitments." I shrugged.

"I'm a kid. What kid does that?" She narrowed her eyes.

"You are not as immature as the others. Don't act like it." Fair. She sighed.

"Anyway, I didn't come to fight. My parents wouldn't stop nagging me about how I haven't invited my only… fri…. I mean classmate… over for a meal yet. Since you've been helping me with training and all." She hesitated.

"So… they're inviting you. Be polite." I blinked.

"Free food? Say no more. I'll be there." She twitched at that. Then stared at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked.

"Aren't you going to invite me to your place? I've never seen it." Oh. Right.

"Yeah, sure. Come in." She followed me up the stairs and into my humble, overly practical flat. The moment we walked in, her eyes narrowed like a security sensor locking on a threat. She scanned everything like a mini ANBU. She pointed at my table.

"Those plates look suspiciously like the ones from the cafeteria." I laughed nervously.

"Coincidence. Completely unrelated." She stepped closer and picked up a spoon.

"They have the Academy logo." I didn't hesitate.

"I bought them from the same supplier." I quickly offered her a seat and slid over some food as a distraction. She looked down at it, horrified.

"This is cafeteria food." I coughed.

"No, it is not" She stared.

"There's lint in it." I waved a hand.

"Fibers are good for your health." Her eyes wandered upward and landed on the ceiling mural. For the first time since she walked in, her expression changed.

"That's… beautiful," she said softly. Then quickly coughed.

"I didn't know you could draw." I looked up at the swirling galaxy.

"Just a hobby." She nodded slowly.

"Alright. I'll give you that. Your place is clean and organized. I wasn't expecting that." I gave her a fake offended look, then brought out the final act. Dessert. A cup of sugar water. In a cafeteria cup. Her face went dark. She stared at the cup like it had betrayed her.

"... How bad are you at managing your finances?" I lowered my head in shame.

"I'm probably the worst there is."