"You have only two options:
One—get recommended by a Chūnin or higher-ranked instructor to join the Fūinjutsu Department.
Two—become a Genin. After that, you can apply for limited access to beginner-level Fūinjutsu scrolls."
The classroom buzzed with murmurs again. Some students looked disappointed, some seemed deep in thought.
"Why is it so restricted?" another student asked.
Arata's smile was calm, but his eyes held a sharp glint. "Because seals aren't just tools—they're weapons. If you don't understand what you're doing, you could end up sealing your own chakra, destroying your gear, or worse—setting off an unstable explosion. Fūinjutsu is a double-edged sword, and the village doesn't allow just anyone to wield it."
Kazeo tapped his fingers against his desk, his mind already working. 'So that meant if I wanted to go deeper into Fūinjutsu, I'd either need a recommendation… or I had to become a Genin first.'
The class for Fuinjutsu passed that way and it was time for next class.
-------
The next class felt different . Instead of the usual sparring mats, chakra control exercises or theory classes, the students found themselves in a dimly lit room with a single candle at the center. The air smelled faintly of ink and sandalwood.
Kazeo and his classmates exchanged confused glances. This wasn't a normal lesson.
At the front of the room, their instructor leaned against the desk with a relaxed posture. Unlike their usual battle-worn teachers, he was too well-dressed—a silk-lined vest, a confident smirk, and eyes that held a glint of amusement.
"Good morning, little ninjas" he greeted, his voice smooth like flowing water. "Welcome to a class that doesn't teach you how to throw a kunai, but how to make sure you never have to. Today, we begin your lessons in Deception and Seduction."
Some students chuckled. Kazeo simply narrowed his eyes, waiting for the real lesson to begin.
The instructor stepped forward, casually flicking a kunai into the air and catching it without looking. "Let's get something straight—this isn't about 'flirting' or 'looking pretty.' Deception and seduction are tools, just like ninjutsu and taijutsu. The ability to lie convincingly, manipulate expectations, and control emotions is what separates good shinobi from dead ones."
The room grew silent.
"Everything you do, everything you wear, everything you say—creates an image in people's minds." The instructor tapped his head. "Make people see what you want them to see, and you control how they react to you."
He walked toward one of the students—an average-looking boy with an uncertain expression. "What's your name?"
"Uh… I-I'm Daiki."
"Alright, Daiki." The instructor snapped his fingers. "From now on, you're not Daiki. You're Daiki the Noble's Son—rich, arrogant, untouchable."
Daiki blinked. "But I'm not—"
"Doesn't matter." The instructor grinned. "Stand up straight. Tilt your chin up slightly. Look down at everyone like they owe you something."
Daiki hesitated, then adjusted his posture. The change was immediate. He still looked like himself, but the way he carried himself suddenly screamed 'privileged brat.'
"Now," the instructor continued, "if a bandit were to see you in the streets, they'd think twice before touching you. Why? Because you look like someone who has connections. Someone dangerous."
The students muttered among themselves, realization dawning on them.
"This is your first lesson," the instructor said, voice calm but sharp. "Learn to control how others see you. If they see what you want them to see, you've already won half the battle."
"Now, deception isn't just about looking strong," the instructor continued. "Sometimes, the best way to win… is to look weak."
He gestured to Kazeo. "Come here."
Kazeo stood up, cautious. The instructor suddenly slumped his shoulders, lowered his gaze, and made his voice tremble.
"P-please, don't hurt me," he whimpered, taking a step back like a frightened villager. His entire body language changed—gone was the confident shinobi; now he looked like a helpless merchant.
Then, in a flash—he moved. His hand struck out, grabbing Kazeo's wrist in a sudden lock, twisting it with a painful jerk. Kazeo barely managed to counter, pulling away in time, but the message was clear.
The students froze.
The instructor straightened up, his smirk returning. "Lesson two—never underestimate a weak-looking opponent. And when needed, become one yourself."
The tension in the room was thick, the students now hanging onto his every word.
"This year, you'll be working on two things. First, you'll train in calligraphy—because the way you write, even the way you hold a brush, can tell people about you. And second, you'll learn to control your body language. If you can walk, talk, and act the way you want others to see you, you can start shaping how they react to you."
A student raised a hand. "Sensei, what if we want to learn more than that?
The instructor smiled, but his eyes held something sharp. "Deception techniques beyond the Academy are restricted."
"Why?" another student asked.
The instructor's voice lowered. "Because some shinobi have lied so well, even their own comrades never knew who they really were. Some changed their faces, infiltrated enemy villages, and became ghosts—forgotten by history."
The students shivered.
"If you truly wish to master deception beyond what's taught here…" The instructor's grin returned, almost playful. "You'll need a recommendation to join the Intelligence Department. Or, if you survive long enough, the ANBU."
Kazeo felt a small thrill. 'So there were secrets beyond this class.'
"Now, some of you might be thinking—'If deception is so useful, why isn't every ninja a master of it?'" He gave them a knowing look.
The class remained silent. That was exactly what some of them had been wondering.
"It's because deception is a skill, just like any other. Some people have a knack for it—they lie without effort, control their emotions naturally, and can fool even skilled shinobi. Others…" He smirked, eyeing one student who had completely failed at looking noble boy earlier. "Well, let's just say they'd die trying to play an undercover role."
Some students laughed nervously.
"In the end, your talent in deception will depend on a few things:
Your natural acting ability – Can you lie with a straight face? Can you make people believe your words?
Your emotional control – Can you hide your true feelings when under pressure?
Your intelligence and adaptability – Can you think fast and adjust when things don't go as planned?
Your training – Even those without natural talent can get better with practice. But only a few will ever reach the level of true masters."
A student raised a hand. "Sensei, does that mean some of us will never be good at deception?"
The instructor grinned. "Let me put it this way—some of you will be great actors, others will be terrible liars, but everyone can at least learn to hide their weaknesses so they don't get exploited. Even if you never become a master of deception, you should at least learn to not be fooled easily."
"Now," the instructor clapped his hands, breaking the tension, "for today's first real exercise—walk across the room. But try to make yourself look as weak or as strong as possible while doing it."
As the students stood and tried, Kazeo's mind was already racing.
The class continued with more examples and practical exercises, each revelation making Kazeo more and more aware of how much he didn't know.
By the end of it, he took a deep breath, feeling more centered than before.
"This class… was definitely worth my time."
The bell rang, its sharp chime echoing through the academy halls. Kazeo exhaled slowly, rolling his sholders. The previous class had been interesting—'deception and seduction' weren't exactly what he expected to learn in the academy, but they had their uses. His mind was still running through the instructor's words as he followed the other students out of the room.
"Where are we going?" someone asked, curiosity buzzing through the group.
A few students shrugged. Others whispered among themselves, throwing out guesses.
"The rooftop" Daiki muttered, a hint of excitement in his voice.
Kazeo's brows raised slightly. 'The rooftop? That place is usually locked off for students.'
The thought intrigued him.
He stayed silent, moving with the rest of the class as they climbed the narrow staircase leading up. With each step, the scent of sun-warmed wood and fresh air grew stronger. Then, as they finally stepped out onto the academy's rooftop, the world seemed to open up. A crisp breeze swept through the air, ruffling their hair and clothes. The entire village stretched out before them, rooftops stacked like puzzle pieces, people moving through the streets below. In the distance, the massive stone faces of the Hokage Monument watched over them.
"Woah..." a student whispered, eyes wide.
For a moment, even the most talkative kids fell silent, taking in the view.
Kazeo also became distracted but after a moment his gaze flickered over their instructor—a tall woman standing at the center of the rooftop, arms crossed, her stance relaxed but sharp. She had an athletic frame, the kind of body that told years of training. Her dark brown hair was tied into a high ponytail, and despite her calm expression, her eyes carried a sharpness that warned against underestimating her.
She waited until all the students had settled, then finally spoke.
"Welcome to your first lesson in flexibility and mobility training," she said, her voice carrying over the wind. "I am Sayuri, and I will be your instructor for this class."
Some kids looked at each other, uncertain.
"Why are we learning flexibility?" one boy asked, his arms crossed. "Isn't that for dancers?"
A few students chuckled.
Sayuri only smiled. Not a soft, reassuring smile but the kind that told she knew something they didn't.
"Let me ask you this," she said, taking a slow step forward. "What happens if you're in the middle of a mission, and you need to hide behind a narrow wall corner for hours?"
The boy blinked.
"Or what if you have to squeeze through a tight space to escape an enemy?"
Now, the kids were listening.
"And what about landing in a tree after a high-speed chase? Your legs must bend, your body must absorb the impact—or you'll break something."
She watched as realization clicked in the students' eyes.
"Flexibility isn't just about stretching," Sayuri continued. "It's about control. It's about moving your body however the mission demands without pain, without delay, without breaking anything."
She turned her attention back to the class.
"And in battle, a stiff body is a dead body."
A ripple of unease passed through the younger kids. Dead? Some fidgeted. Others swallowed hard.
Kazeo, however, simply nodded. She wasn't wrong. He had spent three years training his pink muscles in this world, refining his control and movement. Over time, this had naturally improved his flexibility, making the exercises feel easier than they would have before.
Sayuri took a few steps back, then suddenly dropped into a deep crouch, her thighs parallel to the ground, her balance perfect.
"Most of you probably think you're flexible enough already," she said, looking up at them. "So let's test it."
She smoothly shifted into a split, one leg forward, the other back, her palms resting on her thighs like it was the easiest thing in the world. "Try this."
The students stared. A few blinked. Others shifted uncomfortably. Kazeo barely kept from sighing. 'This is going to be painful for some of them.'
"Uh… that looks… painful," someone muttered.
"Go on," Sayuri said, her voice firm but patient. "Try it."
Daiki was the first to try. He hesitated, then lowered himself into a crouch, trying to extend one leg forward. He barely made it halfway before yelping in pain.
"Ow! Ow, ow—!"
Some kids laughed. Others winced.
Sayuri didn't react. Instead, she turned to another student. "You, try it."
One by one, the students attempted the stretch—some more successful than others. Most struggled. They grunted, groaned, and fell over.
Kazeo?
He sank into the stretch effortlessly, feeling the familiar pull in his muscles. After all, he'd been working on this for years.
Sayuri's gaze flicked to him briefly, but she said nothing. When the struggling had gone on long enough, she clapped her hands once.
"Alright," she said. "That was terrible."
Some kids groaned. Others scowled.
"But that's why you're here. You're not strong enough yet, you're not fast enough yet, and you're not flexible enough yet. That's why we train."
Her voice wasn't mocking—it was honest.
"From today onward, you'll learn how to make your body listen to you better. If you can stretch well, you won't feel stiff when you run, jump, or climb. You'll be able to dodge without tripping and land softly without hurting your legs."
She continued "Think about a cat. Have you ever seen one jump from a high wall and land loudly? No, right? They don't even make a sound! That's because their bodies are flexible! As ninjas, we need to move just like that—quiet, quick, and without getting hurt."
She paced slowly, her presence commanding.
"Some of you will hate it. Some of you will feel like your muscles are on fire. But if you stick with it, your bodies will move exactly the way you want them to and that can make the difference between life and death."
The students were silent now, taking in her words. Sayuri exhaled, then gestured. "Alright, everyone. Let's start small, reach for your toes."
Some groaned and complained. A few kids immediately fell over. Kazeo let out a slow breath, pressing his palms to the ground with ease.Similarly, different poses were tried by the students for the next hour.
The sharp ring of the bell echoed across the rooftop, signaling the end of their class. A few students groaned, rubbing sore muscles, while others stretched experimentally, testing their newfound awareness of their bodies.
Sayuri stepped back, arms crossed. "That's all for today. Next class, we push further. Dismissed."
Kazeo let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders to ease the stiffness.. The lesson had been basic, nothing he hadn't already practiced but useful nonetheless.As the other students stretched sore limbs and chatted, he turned toward the stairs, his mind already shifting ahead for practicing Body Flicker.