Lessons of Experience
Chapter 3: Knives Out
By: BukkakeNoJutsu
Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine, so I write stories to cope with my disappointment.
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Training Uzumaki Naruto in the arts of war often made San feel strangely sentimental. At times, it caused him to reflect upon his long life to avoid repeating the mistakes of his past.
San was a few years older than Sandaime. This meant that there were very few people left in Konoha who could reminisce with him. The one he was closest to had most of his time occupied with a village to run.
San could remember that for every square foot of The Village Hidden in the Leaves some brave nin fought, bled, and died for it.
The old man considered his long-standing acquaintance throughout the Great Shinobi Wars and beyond. Sarutobi did indeed deserve the nickname "The Professor" as much as San deserved his title as "The Executioner."
Sarutobi was known as "The Professor" for his unquestioned mastery of ninjutsu and his wisdom. If you were to ask the First Hokage about the origins of his mastery of Mokuton jutsu, the guy would just shrug as if saying "Fuck if I know" were too much of a hassle. He might conjure you a wooden vacation house to stop with the questions. Sarutobi, though, would extrapolate about theories about extreme doton and suiton alignments with glee. He was always just a little jutsu geek. San knew much better than to regard him as a bookworm. The man was a vicious fighter; blending god knows how many disparate elemental attacks into a nightmarish whole.
San's own reputation as "The Executioner" came from the way he dealt with the enemies of Konoha. While he was not the jutsu monster the Sandaime was, very few ninja who tried to stand toe-to-toe with him made it out alive and none unscathed. A nickname such as "the assassin" did not fit his style on the battlefield, because it implied that he needed to sneak around to keep himself safe. He didn't. San could walk up to an entire group of enemy-nin and demand their surrender or guarantee their slaughter. His vast clandestine successes made him a mysterious bogeyman even within Konoha's own borders. San was quite capable of stealth and guerilla warfare. One of his specialties was to infiltrate deep into hostile camps and eliminate traitors to Konoha who collaborated with the enemy. He would often leave a traitor's eyes, ears, and tongue back at the enemy camp, unless the traitor had a kekkei genkai.
Do that enough times and people are forced to give you a nickname.
Back in the earlier decades of shinobi combat, people didn't have to get too creative with naming their adversaries, unlike what happened with Iwa-nins and their sworn enemy, the Yondaime. The nickname "The Yellow Flash" had been entirely too awesome for the young man at first, but he had earned it in spades by they end of his reign.
The blonde had true grit. Witnessing the young man having his soul torn out willingly to save his village led San to regard him with nothing but the highest respect.
The least that San could do would be to train his legacy to the best of his ability.
During their first meeting in the woods, it wasn't hard for San to figure out that the lonely, malnourished blonde kid was Konoha's resident jinchuuriki. The whisker marks were a dead giveaway.
The kids had guts in spades.
Taking the kids through town for meals, San knew the general populace of Konoha, even now, mostly shunned Naruto. San sensed that Sarutobi probably had some subtle master plan for the kid.
Fuck that.
San's mission was clear.
The kid made no secret of his ambition to be Hokage. Even now, San could tell that the blonde, one day, would be a great hope to the village.
San would mold him into a terror; the type that would cause the more stubborn citizens of Konohagakure to be shitting bricks.
San smirked to himself.
It would be fun to see, after all these decades, if that snot-nosed punk Danzo was still a bed-wetter.
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One October morning, San interrupted practice to pose a question to his young student.
"Do you know why I'm teaching you to dodge knives instead of swords, or any other weapons?"
Naruto paused in his dodging to think a bit. He hazarded a guess.
"I dunno…don't most ninjas carry kunai?"
"Not at all, boy. Therein lies a secret to what I'm teaching you. At hand-to-hand close combat range, I can change my angles of attack with a small knife much, much faster than with a sword. The longer weapon needs more distance and time. You are being pressed to learn to deal with more attacks at a shorter distance with less room for error."
Something seemed to click in Naruto's head.
"Umm… so the closer an attack is to me the more danger I'm in."
San smiled.
"If seems like you're finally catching on."
Naruto beamed at rare praise from the old man.
The old man decided to press his luck and put forth another important question.
"Boy, what do you think is the basis of the defensive style you are learning right now."
Confident, the blonde kid answered, "That's easy. Speed and strength."
"Absolutely…"
Naruto expected another bit of rare praise from Sen. He already had a hand behind his neck in an "Aw, shucks" motion.
"…wrong!"
"What do you mean, Gramps? Isn't that all you need?"
Sen did an admirable job of suppressing the urge to hit Naruto upside the head.
"No. The basis of this style is precision. That's the reason I'm not having you do chakra exercises yet, or wearing weights. It's why we're training with razor sharp weapons."
"What about being strong and fast?" asked a deflated academy student.
"Precision must be ingrained before gaining strength or speed. They can always be added later, but my art requires an extremely high level of precision that is impossible for someone who already possesses great amounts of speed and strength to learn."
"How does that translate to fighting?" asked an intrigued Naruto.
San grinned shark-like again.
"With this kind of precision in mind, you'll become a scalpel rather than a cudgel, and be able to accomplish more with one square foot of space than a so-called taijutsu specialist could with ten feet of space. Trust me. It will all make sense when you start fighting other people."
San summoned a small brown paper-wrapped package to his hands and tossed it to the boy.
Naruto was stunned, not having received gifts from anyone besides the Hokage and Iruka-sensei. He tore open the package and could hardly contain his glee.
"This is why I asked you about the foundation of your defenses today. Happy Birthday."
Naruto gave his elderly teacher the fiercest hug his 12-year-old arms could offer, and then went to examine his new pair of knives.
They were of a simple design, almost elegant, with single-edged matte black blades. The handles were textured and comfortable allowing for various grips. Each blade had a spear point and they were about a foot long overall.
They were pragmatic and deadly, much like the old man teaching Naruto.
"Hey, do you want to gawk at them all day or do you want to learn how to use them?" asked San amusedly.
"I'm here to learn!" said the blond boy looking almost comically serious.
San allowed himself a chuckle before becoming serious again.
"Naruto, I need to teach you about my uncle first; the man who taught me how to kill. Understanding his intentions in creating the art we practice now is even more important than learning any specific technique."
Naruto listened intently as San's history lessons tended to be very entertaining and very violent. A textbook was in no way as interesting as someone who lived through those events.
San took a deep breath before revealing the true origins and intent of his art for what was probably the first time.
It would not be a pretty story to tell.
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End Chapter 3
C&C welcome