Naruto: The Sarutobi Who Can't Spark

Satoru stood before Raijin's house, taking in every detail with reverence. Though Raijin's house was not extravagant, it carried quite a dignity.

A wooden fence embraced the property, weathered but well-maintained. Beyond it lay a carefully tended beautiful garden that spread before the main entrance. Herbs, flowers, and different ornamental plants swayed gently in the breeze.

The main door opened to a passage that flowed naturally into a spacious hall.

As they entered, Satoru's blue, emerald eyes danced across every surface.

Noticing his friend's wandering gaze, Raijin's voice cut through the silence, "Let's have some food first, shall we?"

"Umm… Okay," Satoru managed to reply, unable to tear his attention away from the extravagant, spacious hall. Something about the house felt welcoming, exciting, luxurious, lovely, and yet lonely. "Where are your parents?" he ventured.

Raijin's voice took on a solemn tone. "They completed their service to Konoha."

As usual, Satoru missed the essence of Raijin's words and continued his exploration. He roamed around the hall, wandering into every nearby room, drawn by curiosity. His attention was drawn to a door leading to what appeared to be a backyard. "May I open this door, Raijin?"

"Yes, yes…" Raijin's voice drifted from the kitchen. "I'm nearly ready to serve the food..."

Sliding the door open, Satoru discovered a training ground. He noticed some worn-out dummies, wooden boards scarred with sharp objects, worn-out ground, and some scorch marks here and there. Lamps were placed in four corners and hung from the pole like watchful guardians.

"Satoru, let's have some food first." Raijin's call pulled him back to the present.

As they settled at the dining table, Satoru couldn't contain his curiosity, "You live alone in this big house?"

Raijin's laugh carried a hint of both pride and melancholy. "Yes"

"Then, that yard must be your training ground."

"Yes, that is where I train," Raijin confirmed, placing a steaming plate before his friend, who was in the care of a host who rarely received visitors.

The afternoon sun stood at three when they finished eating. They both stood in the training ground. "Let's start with push-ups first," Raijin said, his tone to that of the scarred instructor of the entrance examination.

***

The days following his visit to Raijin's house were grueling for young Satoru.

His arms and legs were dotted with purple bruises around him, and his muscles ached with every small to large movement. Yet beneath the physical discomfort burned a determination that grew stronger.

After witnessing Raijin's training ground and harsh training, Satoru crafted his own harsh regimen, pushing himself beyond what he thought possible.

Raijin also proved to be an exacting mentor. He helped Satoru prepare for his physical conditioning training and Shurikenjutsu. He corrected Satoru's stance and grip until his arm felt like it would fall out from countless repetitions. Each stance and grip brought Satoru closer to perfection.

As the second week progressed, Satoru's body began to adapt to his harsh and grueling training. The purple bruises faded to yellowish marks, while his body adapted to the training with fluidity and confidence.

Or so Satoru thought.

During holidays, he would seek Raijin's guidance in Shurikenjutsu, and Academy classes became opportunities to pepper Raijin with questions about chakra theory.

The fourth week marked a significant milestone in Satoru's training. Raijin introduced him to the fundamental concepts of Chakra and made him read and learn about the basics of Chakra.

By the fifth week, Satoru had gained almost all the knowledge related to chakra, that an academy student must know. But he hadn't had a chance to practice jutsus or even feel chakra.

…

Today, he would practice sensing and controlling the chakra within his body. He woke early in the morning, brimming with anticipation for the discoveries ahead. After freshening up, he returned to his bed.

As Satoru settled into his room's bed, he reached for the library book that Raijin had insisted, rather forcefully, that he borrow. He rummaged through the book.

The pages rustled as he flipped through them, finally stopping at the chapter on Leaf Concentration, a fundamental chakra control exercise.

Thanks to Raijin's relentless drilling on chakra fundamentals—and even some advanced concepts—the theoretical content was no longer as daunting as it once had been. Where he had once struggled to grasp even the most basic principles, the words now flowed naturally into his understanding.

After completing the theoretical reading, Satoru ventured into the forest near his home.

The morning air was crisp, and dew was still visible on the plants. He carefully selected leaves of varying sizes and textures.

Back in his room, he arranged them meticulously on his wooden table, creating a small green arsenal for his training.

Settling into a cross-legged position on his bed, Satoru picked a particularly vibrant leaf, its surface still wet with morning dew. He placed it against his forehead with careful precision only to watch it flutter helplessly down to his lap.

Frustration bubbled up inside him as attempt after attempt yielded the same result. Fifteen minutes passed, marked only by the steady rhythm of falling leaves.

He closed his eyes in concentration, trying to sense the chakra within him. Satoru sought what his class teacher; Kaiyo-sensei, had described as the mysterious energy that flows through all living beings.

As he concentrated his awareness inward, he discovered it–a subtle warmth coursing through his body like an intricate network of gentle streams.

The sensation was paradoxical: simultaneously foreign and intimately familiar, as if he'd discovered a part of himself he'd always known existed but never truly noticed.

The book's instructions seemed simple enough—direct chakra to the forehead. Raijin's instruction had prepared him for the concept of chakra as a warm, living energy, but directing it to a specific point seemed more difficult than it sounds. He muttered, "What appeared straightforward in theory is maddeningly complex in practice."

Each attempt brought his increased focus, his brow still furrowed with concentration even after ten more attempts.

The chakra was there, he could feel it, but directing chakra felt like trying to grasp water with chopsticks. Sweat began to bead on his temple, both from the physical strain of maintaining a still position and the mental exertion of trying to control this elusive energy.

After what felt like the hundredth attempt, he paused to wipe the sweat from his brow.

With each try, he had become more aware of how chakra moves within him, but still trying to catch mist with his bare hands, it slipped away as soon as he tried to grasp it.

Then, in a moment of frustrated clarity, Satoru's mind clicked on a different approach.

Instead of forcing the chakra, to bend it to his will, he tried to feel its natural flow. There was an inherent rhythm to it. He realized the rhythm was like the beating of a heart or the flow of rivers.

He placed another leaf against his forehead, but this time, rather than pushing his chakra, he tried to guide it. He imagined it like a small stream being gently directed rather than a forced burst of energy.

The change was subtle but immediate. A warmth bloomed at his forehead, and for the first time, the leaf held.

The feeling was incredible – a warm, tingling sensation at his forehead where the chakra connects with the leaf. It was like having a small, warm fingertip pressing gently against his skin, but from the inside out.

Maintaining the connection required constant concentration. Too much chakra and he felt it might blow the leaf away, too little and it would fall.

He kept the leaf in place, marveling at this significant achievement. This discovery opened his understanding. Each successful attempt taught him something new about the nature of chakra—how it responded to intention, how it flowed more naturally when guided rather than forced.

Now, even his failures have become valuable lessons, showing him the fine line between control and excess.

After holding it for several seconds the strain began to build. His forehead muscles felt tight, and he could feel his chakra diminishing, getting weaker, like something was lost.

However, with each subsequent attempt, he found his 'sweet spot' faster. Maintaining it still required intense concentration.

As the morning wore on, Satoru began to experiment. He tested different amounts of chakra, observed how the leaf responded to subtle changes in his focus, and learned to recognize the warning signs of over- and under-exertion. Sometimes the leaf would shoot off his forehead like it had been launched from a tiny catapult; other times, it would slowly peel away as his concentration wavered.

"This must be what Raijin meant by chakra control being the foundation of all jutsu."

Finally, exhausted from the constant chakra manipulation, Satoru ended his practice. His body was drenched in sweat, and his chakra reserves felt depleted.

As he cleaned up the scattered leaves and prepared for a well-earned meal and bath, he reflected on his progress with quiet satisfaction.

The following weeks saw Satoru dedicating countless hours to perfecting the leaf concentration exercise. During one of his conversations with Raijin, his friend emphasized the critical importance of this seemingly simple practice, explaining that proper chakra control is the foundation of all advanced ninja techniques.

Despite the demanding schedule of Academy studies and his personal training regimen, supplemented by Raijin's guidance during holidays, Satoru's growth was steady and remarkable. Over two months, he developed physically and mentally, showing impressive progress for a six-year-old.

While certain Academy subjects still posed challenges, he had managed to grasp the essential first-year concepts with remarkable thoroughness.

Satoru's gift wasn't in quick learning but in his unwavering persistence.

Three months into his training, while deeply immersed in his studies of jutsus and chakra manipulation, Satoru's curiosity got the better of him. "Can you perform jutsus, Raijin?" he asked, his eyes bright with interest.

"Yes," Raijin replied with a slight smile, "I can perform some E-rank jutsus and one D-rank."

The response sent Satoru into an excited frenzy. He bounced on his feet, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. "When did you learn? What do you know? Please, show me one!"

Raijin's eyes twinkled with amusement. "I will, but you must promise not to tell anyone about this."

"I promise! I promise!" Satoru could barely stand still, his whole body thrumming with anticipation.

Raijin chuckled at his friend's enthusiasm before forming the necessary hand signs and performing a clone jutsu. In an instant, an identical copy materialized beside him, perfect in every detail. Satoru approached the clone with wide-eyed wonder, his hand reaching out slowly.

As his fingers brushed against it, the illusion dispersed.

"When will I be able to do that?" Satoru asked, his voice filled with equal parts awe and determination.

"When you can sustain the leaf concentration practice for 3 hours," Raijin replied matter-of-factly.

Satoru's face contorted into a frustrated scowl. "Three whole hours?... I'm able to sustain for merely 5 minutes."

Raijin didn't respond to Satoru's request for comment, rather he smiled.

***