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Chapter 21

the fire's out but still it burns

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64年11月22日

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Resonance.

Akuto sighs, closes his eyes, and leans against the wall. His hand rests on his knee, his fingers tracing random lines and patterns against his pants. It's an old habit, all the way back from Before— where his mother had done the same thing whenever she was home long enough for him to find her thinking about in the living room— something to keep his hands busy while his thoughts wander.

And lately, he keeps coming back to the same word. Resonance.

It started as an off-hand question, a spur of the moment kind of thing where Kirimaru's energy and passion about fuinjutsu had amplified his own about chakra and one thing led to another. He didn't think it'd lead anywhere. In fact, he didn't think at all. Just threw it out there based on pure instinct— the same that led him to lose his arm. But then Kirimaru said resonance and suddenly everything made sense it a way it hadn't before.

Chakra isn't just energy. It's a force. Like friction, tension, normal force. A reactive force. It doesn't just move because people will it to, no, it responds to something deeper, something other than conscious control. Intent. That's why seals work. Why certain kanji, certain shapes, certain formations can channel chakra without needing a direct command.

That's not obedience.

It's alignment.

He frowns. His fingers still.

Hand seals have to work the same way. A sort of sequence of movements, each with its own frequency. Like a melody played on an instrument. Like steps in a dance. Like pressure points on a body. The chakra hears it, aligns with it, and responds to it.

He exhales. Shifts in place. Presses his palm flat against his knee.

Which must be why each nature release has preferred seals.

The Dragon seal for Lightning Release is sharp, angular. He had to press his fingers tightly together, left thumb resting on top. His hands formed a shape that felt tense. Ready. Like lightning nature itself: sudden, forceful, kind of electric.

The Dog seal is entirely different but suits Water Release perfectly. One hand rests flat on a closed fist. Stable. Contained but fluid. Water doesn't fight against its shape. It follows, moulds itself to fit. The seal itself isn't rigid as well, but not loose either. It's controlled. Meant to guide, rather than force.

He exhales. Carefully, slowly moves trembling fingers into the right position. Half seals. Incomplete.

Every seal has its purpose.

Ox is Earth. The way one hand presses horizontally against the vertical fingers of the others— grounded. Practical. Stable. Locked in place. The kind of stance that can't be broken easily. Bird is Wind. Fingers are pressed together at the tips, thumbs angled just so. It's a light seal. Open. Unfixed. Win isn't about control, it's about movement— letting chakra move the way it wants to, the way air flows naturally. And Tiger. Tiger is the core of Fire Release and feels like pushing something outward. Thumbs raised high; fingers pointed straight like an explosion about to ignite.

They have weight.

Resonance.

Even Ram, the most common one. Even it has something to it— perhaps especially it. The way hands press together so tightly: thumbs locked, fingers straight. It feels like an activation switch. A command. A final note that brings everything together. Exactly the places the seal is used in sequence— at the beginning or the end or both.

But Snake…

Snake is different. He hesitates. Snake has no firm structure, no single point of pressure. The fingers weave loosely together, thumb positioned on the outside. It isn't locked in place like the others. It's… flexible. Like snakes itself. Like… He grits his teeth. Like Orochimaru. Snake is meant to shift.

Akuto sucks in a breath. Snake isn't about aligning chakra. It's about adjusting it.

Snake is about transformation. Control, not power. For shifting chakra from one resonance to another.

That's why it appears so often.

If Ram is about activation and focus, if Snake is about transformation, then what about the rest? Monkey, Rat, Hare, Boar, and Horse?

Surely, they must have functions as well.

His fingers twitch into the next seal. He frowns. Monkey.

This one's strange. Here, thumbs lie flat against pinkies and hands are folded together in a way that feels… subtle, perhaps? Hidden, maybe. Quiet. Definitely not forceful. Not rigid like Ox. But not flexible like Snake, either.

It feels sort of incomplete, and—

…isn't it used in the Transformation Technique?

He runs through the hand seals with his one hand. Ram, Snake, Monkey, Ram. His chakra remains still of course, as if frozen, but his eyes widen nonetheless. Indeed, it is. Maybe Monkey is about transformation, then?

It wouldn't be about raw power or shaping chakra into specific techniques, but it would be about shifting. Changing form, adjusting, adapting. Which would explain why it feels incomplete. Perhaps it's deliberately so, as if it isn't meant to stand alone but rather work between other hand seals. Adjusting and altering other seals or chakra mid-process.

He grins.

Then, what about Hare? It's another loose seal, like Snake. Aside from the pinky, the right fingers curl slightly while the left stay steady. The seal isn't fully rigid like Ox but it isn't fully loose like Snake is. It has tension, but it's not holding still. Like it could move at any moment.

…so, speed then?

He frowned. It would make sense. Hare would be quick, not powerful. Designed for something fast, reactive, always ready to shift. Much like hares themselves. So, Hare wouldn't anchor the chakra into place or force it into a mold— it would prepare it, keep it nimble.

And then there's Rat. He knows this one well, he uses it for his genjutsu all the time. Remembers the feeling of the seal, the way his chakra moves more so than he remembers the others— Rat is tight. Closed off. The left thumb wrapped outside the right, securing the seal, like locking something in. A containment seal, if you will. A restriction. That's what Yin chakra is as well. Yin is mental energy, used for genjutsu… so maybe thought, perception, illusion? That sort of thing. Deception, even. It aligns well with the way the Rat seal presses in on itself.

He shakes his hand. Now, Horse. Horse takes up a lot of space: elbows out and index fingers forming a triangle. A broad shape, one that feels like it reinforces something. Creates something. Structure, perhaps?

He frowns. That doesn't quite feel right. If Rat— small, containing itself— is Yin, then perhaps Horse— being the opposite— is Yang? It would suit horses, too. They're large, strong, full of life; the very things Yang Release embodies. Perhaps, the Horse seal is a way to amplify. To sustain.

He flexes his fingers.

This leaves only Boar. Boar is another one he knows relatively well; it's used in loads of healing jutsu, though some seem to bypass the use of hand seals altogether, like the Mystical Palm Technique. Anyway, Boar was a nuisance of a seal to learn and requires a lot of flexibility in the wrists. Otherwise, it's a tight seal, fingers pressed together tightly—

He feels the strain of it in his wrist. It feels uncomfortably now, after weeks of him not having trained and pushed his flexibility. What for? He can't use chakra now anyway.

Akuto takes a deep breath, twists his wrist back into position, and focuses on the seal. Boar requires flexibility, precision, an exactness that most other seals don't. It tracks— medical chakra requires control, after all. It needs to be exact, careful, and perfectly aligned. Else you can do more damage than good—

A whisper of something curls under his skin. Then—

A flicker of green. Barely there.

Gone at once.

It lasted only a second— if even that. A hint of something in the corner of his eyes, a trick of the light. His breath catches in his throat, his pulse pounds in his ears, and his chest tightens with something— something he can't quite place. It churns in his stomach, bubbling and pushing, making him feel nervous, sick, and breathless all at once.

His fingers flex instinctively.

Nothing.

Of course. His chakra is gone. It doesn't move anymore. That's just how it is now.

Akuto exhales deeply. Shakes out his hand. Rubs his palm against his knee. This was nothing, just a trick of the light, a trick of exhaustion. A mistake. His mind making up things that aren't there. A combination of coincidences that his mind just took as something that once was but isn't anymore.

He imagined it. He had to have imagined it.

It doesn't make sense otherwise.

He curls his hand into a fist.

It still feels warm.

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64年11月24日

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Hiyu invites the boy for their first meeting after weeks of radio silence.

She hasn't been sure— still very much isn't— but after talking it through with Fuguki (much to his amusement and her chagrin) she decided to go ahead with it, anyway. If she hadn't, the boy would've been disappointed, certainly, but he would've never found her and she could've buried it away with all the other things and never thought about it again.

But Kiri always needs more non-offensive specialist and their cause could use capable allies.

She waits for him on an isolated training field on the outskirts of Kiri, one of the few corners where Saigawa stops, close to the wall. It's a plain training field, with only a few trees and no river. They won't need it now, she thinks. She doesn't even know if his chakra control is good enough to proceed.

That's what they're here to find out.

She looks at the sky, at the sun. It's about time he should arrive now.

Hiyu pushes her chakra out. She's no natural sensor but Fuguki has taught her some tricks to get some measure of her surroundings anyway. Taught her how to infuse the chakra around her with her own and listen to other signatures.

And, there, at the edge of her range, she finds him. His chakra feels warm, comfortable, like standing in a natural hot spring. Water affinity, then, she thinks. Good. Water and Earth affinities are more compatible with healing jutsu than others, though Lightning affinities are a close third.

Five minutes later, she sees him approach. He's wearing plain clothing, a simple if worn short kimono and brown pants, standard-issue shoes. His hitai-ate sits proudly on his forehead. A kunai pouch is strapped to his left leg. Left-handed, then. He holds a brown paper bag in his arms.

When he sees her, a grin blooms on his face and he waves his arm at her.

He runs the rest of the way.

"Hullo," he says, bright brown eyes scrunching up when his smile widens even more. Before she can say anything, he bows lowly. "Thank you so much for giving me a chance," he says, formal. When he rises, the smile is still on his face. She wonders how his cheeks aren't hurting yet. "I was so happy when I received your message!" He holds out the paper bag. "This is for you!"

Hiyu inclines her head. "Thank you," she says and takes the bag. She then seals it away. "Right," she continues, once he stands in front of her, perfectly at attention, grin subdued but a soft smile still on his face. "Before we commit to anything, we shall test your chakra control aptitude."

Mikan Kobe, eighteen— recently promoted to chūnin at seventeen by recommendations of chūnin Satsuma Akiho and jōnin Wanijima Setsuna— is pretty much ordinary. He has a good grasp on his chakra control, small reserves as is common for first-generation shinobi, and a decent repertoire of Water Release ninjutsu. He is skilled at kenjutsu and shurikenjutsu. Had the misfortune of going through the Old Graduation Exam before its abolishment. Hard working, loyal, but soft.

Overall, he is a solid shinobi. Likely would've made chūnin at an earlier age in any other village. At least, that's what Wanijima said.

Mikan's smile widens again. "Yes, ma'am!"

Hiyu takes a long look at him, then unseals a chakra aptitude seal from a different scroll tucked away in the pouch fastened to her belt. The hospital uses these to test chakra control prior to the entrance exams, to see if it's even worth spending time and material on hopefuls for the test. The ANBU use these as well, for specific units. Neither would notice one missing.

The chakra control aptitude seal tests not only one's current chakra control level, but also one's potential. The hospital allows only those to take the entrance exams who score at least ninety-five percent on both— that is, if one is not of the Iyokan clan or the kachū class, of course— though only ninety percent are technically required to be able to practice medical ninjutsu safely.

Any percentage below brings more risks to those one attempts to heal.

She hands the seal to him. Mikan frowns and tilts his head. He reminds her of a puppy. She shakes her head inwardly, pushes the image away, and points at the seal in his hands. "This is a chakra control aptitude test seal. At least the one we use in Kiri. If functions essentially the same as chakra paper— one pushes their chakra in and it reacts. Too much chakra and it tears, too little and nothing happens."

Mikan's smile fades and he nods once, serious. "Thank you again for giving me this opportunity," he says and then carefully pushes chakra into the seal.

It reacts, hums, buzzes with energy, then quiets.

"Now we wait," Hiyu says.

They wait in a complete but not uncomfortable silence for five minutes, until the seal buzzes alive again. Mikan looks at her at once. Hiyu inclines her head, and nods at the seal. He takes a deep breath, swallows hard, then looks at the seal.

Current, it reads. Eighty-five percent.

Potential, the kanji below reads. Ninety-one percent.

Hiyu nods once. Mikan would never be accepted into the hospital program, then. Perhaps he might have the brains to actually become a decent doctor— he certainly seems to have a natural warmth many doctors lack— but since he is a katō, he will never get this chance in Kiri.

Chance to learn under the hospital, at least.

The hospital does not turn away capable medics, regardless of what the test says. If one already knows medical-ninjutsu has the knowledge required to be able to competently and safely perform all procedures, the hospital accepts one regardless of class, background, or aptitude test result.

She looks back at him, only to find him already watching her, looking at her, eyes wide and full of emotions— anxiousness, pride, confusion, and a hint of something that might be fear. Uncertainty, certainly. He does not know what any of this means, then.

"If this were the official hospital test," she says, crossing her arms. "You would be rejected at once. They would not even permit you to take the entrance exams." Mikan visibly deflates, as though he has just been crushed by a thousand boulders. "However—" He perks up at this. "Since you do not seem… hopeless, I shall give you the chance to prove yourself."

He grins at her. Bows low again. "Thank you so much!"

"You do not even know what this entails," she says, and it sounds like a question even to her. But she speaks the truth— Mikan does not know what this last jump entails, how much discipline and fighting it takes to reach the ninety percent. Those last five percent are the reasons most ninja, even if they have the potential, to not even attempt to pursue medical skills, beyond knowing anatomy to kill. She has seen her children struggle with it— has feared they might grow to hate her as she pushed them onward, anyway— has felt the struggle herself, all those years ago. "It will be an arduous path," she adds. "And only if you reach these ninety percent will I teach you what I know."

His grin grows wider, impossibly so. "But you're giving me a chance."

Hiyu sighs. "Very well," she says, and rests her hands on her hips. "Let us begin."