Fire

Over the past couple months, it seems the the Hokage has decided that I'm best suited for assassination missions, as that's the only types of missions I've been given since my first one, although small in amount. Assassination after assassination. Slip in, take the target down, vanish. Efficient, yes. Necessary, sure. But this wasn't the challenge I wanted.

I was scalpel for cutting down their enemies, and while I had no issue carrying out the missions, it was starting to feel... repetitive. There was no real fight, no resistance. Just shadows and death. I wasn't complaining about the ease of it—there's a skill in getting in and out unnoticed—but it wasn't where I could truly test myself.

I had trained for more than this. I wanted a fight where I could push my abilities to the limit, where I could use my skills in combat, not just to eliminate someone from behind. But every time, it was the same order: another target, another quick kill.

I've come to realize that I couldn't always rely on my blood manipulation. Sure, I've refined it to the point where I can stimulate my body to produce more blood if needed, but that only takes me so far. I still have a limited supply. In a one-on-one, if the fight dragged out too long, I'd be at a disadvantage, no matter how well I can manipulate it. That's where the real danger lies—not in the initial fight, but in the slow drain over time.

So in between missions I've been learning to wield the Kubikiribōchō better, and all I can say is that it's... different. The massive blade wasn't like anything I'd used before. Its sheer size and weight demanded strength, but there was something about it that felt right in my hands, like it was meant for me. I could feel the raw potential it had, its thirst for blood as it mercilessly cut down it's victims.

During my training, I tested the limits of that regeneration. I chipped and damaged the blade, using my blood to fix it. But as I experimented, I discovered something unexpected. With my control over blood, I could influence how the blade regenerated.

At first, it was subtle—the edge would sharpen more precisely, or the nicks in the blade would heal faster. But the more I pushed, the more I realized I could manipulate its form. The Kubikiribōchō could reshape itself under my control, bending and reforming in ways that made it even more deadly.

There was just one problem: the handle. No matter how much I altered the shape of the blade, the long handle remained unchanged, an inflexible part of the weapon's design. It wasn't a major issue, but it limited some of the forms I could create.

Still, the ability to reshape the blade on command was an advantage no one else had. It made the Kubikiribōchō mine in a way it had never belonged to Zabuza.

Its ability to regenerate, combined with my own techniques, gives me a way to end fights faster before the blood loss becomes an issue. But even with the blade and my blood control, I've started to notice something else.

My jutsu arsenal... it's limited. I can fight, and I can fight well, but I don't have the variety of techniques some others do. In a drawn-out battle, or against an opponent with a more versatile set of skills, I'd have fewer tools to pull from.

That's how I found myself standing in the Hokage's office. I felt a rare sense of humility wash over me. I had been so focused on honing my bloodline abilities, that I realized how much I'd neglected a crucial part of my training: learning jutsu. It wasn't like me to overlook something so vital, but I knew now that I'd been slacking in that area.

"Lord Hokage," I started, keeping my voice steady, "It's come to my attention that I've been neglecting my jutsu training. My arsenal is limited, and that could become a problem. I need to correct that."

Hiruzen looked at me, a hint of surprise flickering across his face, though he quickly masked it. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. "It's good that you've recognized this. Many shinobi overlook their own weaknesses until it's too late. But you've been keeping up with your missions, and perhaps that's left little time for personal growth."

He wasn't wrong, but I didn't make excuses. "I would like you to teach me, if possible."

His eyes narrowed, thoughtful. "I don't have much free time, Chihara. However, you've proven yourself competent, and it's important that you keep advancing. I suppose I could send a shadow clone to train you."

It wasn't what I had originally hoped for, but it was more than I expected. "That's more than enough, Lord Hokage."

Hiruzen nodded, satisfied with my response. "Meet me at the training field in an hour. We'll begin with the basics and see where you stand."

An hour later, I arrived at the training field, the Hokage's shadow clone already waiting for me. He handed me a small slip of chakra paper, the kind used to determine elemental affinities.

The Hokage's shadow clone watched me as I held the chakra paper in my hand.

"Before you begin," he said calmly, "let me explain how this works. When you push your chakra into the paper, it will react according to your natural elemental affinity. If the paper crumples, it means your chakra aligns with the Lightning Release. If it burns, that indicates a Fire Release affinity. If it splits in two, you have Wind Release. If the paper becomes damp, that shows an affinity for Water Release. And if it turns to dust, your chakra is attuned to Earth Release."

I nodded, absorbing the information. The elemental nature of a shinobi's chakra could often define their fighting style, and I had no idea what mine would reveal.

"Now, focus," the Hokage urged.

I channeled my chakra into the slip of paper, focusing intently. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, I watched as part of the paper began to crumble into dust. Almost immediately, another section dampened, as if soaked by an unseen water source. And just as I started to comprehend what was happening, the final section caught fire, burning quickly before fizzling out.

I stared at the paper, now in fragments. Earth, Water, and Fire. Three distinct reactions.

The Hokage's shadow clone raised an eyebrow. "Interesting... It seems you possess a rare natural affinity for three elements: Earth, Water, and Fire. That's quite unusual."

"I guess I've got a lot to work with, then," I said.

The Hokage nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed. However, mastering three elemental releases is no small feat. Focus on one at a time, and build your foundation. We can begin with whichever element you feel will benefit your current fighting style the most."

I glanced down at the fragments of paper, considering.

"Fire Release," I said, my voice firm.

-------------------

For the next few days, I focused entirely on fire nature manipulation, starting with the simplest exercise: igniting a leaf. The Hokage had instructed me to channel my chakra into the leaf and infuse it with the fire nature, not by molding it into a jutsu but by controlling the elemental transformation directly.

At first, it was frustrating. The leaf would warm up, but never catch fire. It took a couple hours just to get the edges to singe, and by the end of each session, there was a pile of blackened but unburnt leaves at my feet.

I knew it wasn't about power but control, refining the transformation within my chakra. I could overwhelm with force, but fire demanded precision if I was going to master it. By the second day, I could feel it—a spark at the center of the leaf, a flicker of flame that eventually consumed it. The leaf caught fire, curling into ash between my fingers.

Once I'd perfected the exercise, the Hokage introduced the next step: Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique. This was different. Instead of focusing on something small and contained, I needed to build up chakra, shape it into a massive fireball, and launch it with precision. It was raw power, but I knew the Hokage expected more than just a blast of flames.

"The key," he said, "is not to just release the fire but to control its form. Make it a perfect sphere, maintaining stability throughout."

I stood on the training field, inhaling deeply. The heat from the gathered chakra spread through my chest as I molded it, feeling the fire nature coursing through me. I weaved the necessary hand signs and expelled a fireball from my mouth, a burst of flame that tore across the field.

It wasn't perfect. It flickered and warped as it flew, more like a flaming wave than a clean sphere.

"You need to control the shape more precisely," the Hokage reminded me. "The flames need to burn evenly, keeping the fireball intact."

Again and again, I tried, each time making adjustments. I tweaked how I gathered chakra, focused on maintaining a balance between the force of expulsion and the shape of the fire itself. The Hokage's clone observed with an ever-watchful eye, giving me pointers between attempts, and I could now tell why he was also called The Professor.

By the end of the week, I could feel the difference. The fireball wasn't just a raw attack anymore—it was refined. I launched another one, this time a perfect sphere, the flames swirling and contained with precision. The explosion that followed was massive, but the fireball held its form perfectly until it hit its mark.

After mastering the Great Fireball Technique, the Hokage seemed satisfied with my progress, but I knew there was more I could learn. One day during our training session, his expression shifted from a mentor's calm gaze to something more reflective. He finally spoke.

"Chihara, you've shown exceptional skill in fire release. I believe you're ready for something more... advanced. It's a technique known as the Fire Release: Great Flame Jutsu, it's a special jutsu from my clan, the Sarutobi Clan."

That caught me off guard, I didn't think the Hokage would teach me one of his family's jutsu made me pause.

He explained the technique with a depth of knowledge that only he could provide. Unlike the Great Fireball, which was a burst of flames in a single moment, the Great Flame Jutsu was a constant, overwhelming stream of fire. The flames expanded the farther they traveled, growing hotter and more destructive, capable of evaporating large bodies of water in an instant.

"This technique requires more than raw power," the Hokage said, his tone serious. "It's about control. Once the fire starts, it's relentless, and if you're not careful, it can burn out of control."

We started the training right away. I had to learn to gather a larger amount of chakra in my stomach, more than I'd ever used before, and expel it in a controlled, continuous stream. It wasn't just about building pressure like with the Great Fireball. The chakra needed to flow steadily, feeding the flames while maintaining their intensity.

Day after day, I trained under his watchful eye, working to perfect the balance of power and control. At first, the flames barely traveled a few feet before dying out. But over time, they grew stronger, wider, and hotter. I could feel the air around me crackle with heat as I pushed the technique farther and farther.

Day's passed, and I finally felt it click. When I released the fire from my mouth, it erupted into a vast stream of flames, expanding rapidly as it scorched everything in its path. The heat was overwhelming, even for me. I had created a wave of fire that moved with the destructive force the Hokage had described.

After a successful attempt, Hiruzen stood by, nodding with approval.

"You've done well, Chihara."