The Tale of an ordinary ninja

A Chilling Morning and a Dojo Duel

The morning air in the Land of Iron was biting cold, the kind that seeped into your bones no matter how many layers you wore. Akira rubbed his hands together as he stepped outside the inn, his breath puffing out in frosty clouds. Lady Mochizuki and Umiko were already awake, sipping on warm tea near the fire.

"Akira, remember," Umiko said, her tone as gentle as it was firm, "you need to be back by evening. We have preparations to make for tomorrow's journey back to Konoha."

"I'll be back before you know it, Mother," Akira replied with a reassuring smile.

Lady Mochizuki chimed in, her piercing gaze softening slightly. "Don't go getting yourself into trouble, Akira. You're here to learn, not to fight unnecessary battles."

Akira nodded, slinging his sword over his shoulder. With a final wave, he set off toward the dojo where Kirito had promised to teach him the intricacies of channelling chakra into his blade.

As he jogged through the snow-covered streets, Akira's thoughts began to wander. The cold air wasn't the only thing sending a chill through him. Over the past few weeks, he'd noticed something strange—his memories of his past life were fading. At first, it was small things, like the faces of his classmates from his early school years. But now, even his time at university was becoming blurry. Worst of all, the memories of Naruto—the world he had cherished so deeply—were slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

"What's happening to me?" Akira whispered to himself, his breath forming a fleeting mist in the icy air. He shook his head, forcing the thoughts to the back of his mind. Whatever it was, he would deal with it later. For now, his focus was on the dojo and learning something new.

At the Dojo: A Swordsmanship Duel

Akira arrived at the dojo to find Kirito already deep in practice. The teenage samurai's movements were sharp and deliberate, his sword slicing through the air with an almost musical rhythm. The light filtering through the windows glinted off his blade, giving him an almost ethereal presence. Akira couldn't help but be impressed.

Kirito paused mid-swing, his sharp gaze landing on Akira. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You're late," he said, sheathing his sword with a flourish. "I thought you might've chickened out."

Akira crossed his arms, his smirk mirroring Kirito's. "I don't run from challenges. I'm here to learn, not back down."

"Good," Kirito said, stepping forward. "Then let's see what you've got. We'll spar. No holding back. Real swords."

Akira blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Real swords? Isn't that a bit much for practice?"

Kirito's smirk widened. "This isn't practice. This is a duel. If you want to learn how to channel chakra into your blade, you need to understand what it means to fight with your life on the line."

Akira hesitated for a moment, but the fire in Kirito's eyes was infectious. He unsheathed his sword, its weight familiar in his hands. "Fine. Let's do this."

The Duel Begins

The two faced off in the center of the dojo, the tension palpable. A small audience of samurai trainees gathered around, curious to see how this outsider would fare against Kirito.

Kirito was the first to move, his blade flashing toward Akira with lightning speed. Akira barely managed to parry the strike, the force of it reverberating down his arm. Kirito's attacks were relentless—each strike faster and more precise than the last. Akira was on the defensive, his blade a blur as he struggled to keep up.

"You're too slow," Kirito said, his tone teasing but his strikes merciless. "If this were a real battle, you'd already be dead."

Akira gritted his teeth, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He knew he couldn't match Kirito's speed, so he decided to change his approach. Waiting for an opening, Akira feigned a retreat, drawing Kirito in closer. Just as Kirito prepared to strike again, Akira shifted his weight and launched his leaf style - crescent moon technique. Three shadow clones emerged and they striped kiritio in all directions while the Akira hid himself among them. Akira noticed an opening and made his final move. He moved towards kirito rapidly and was about to strike him when his movements were interrupted by a strong lightning slash that dispeled his technique .The charged blade sliced through Akira's technique as if it was nothing

"Impressive," Kirito said, his voice calm despite the sheer power he had just displayed. "But not enough."

Before Akira could react, Kirito surged forward, his blade a blur of crackling lightning. The strike was so fast and precise that Akira barely managed to dodge, the edge of Kirito's blade grazing his sleeve. The force of the slash was so immense that it sliced through one of the dojo's wooden beams, sending splinters flying.

Akira stumbled back, his heart pounding as he stared at the destruction Kirito's blade had caused. He couldn't help but be amazed. Kirito's mastery over his sword—and his ability to channel chakra into it—was on a completely different level.

Kirito lowered his blade, his expression unreadable. "You've got potential," he said, walking toward Akira. "But potential isn't enough. If you want to stand a chance against someone like me, you need to understand the flow of chakra in your body and how to merge it with your sword."

Akira sheathed his blade, his breath still coming in short gasps. "How do you do it?" he asked, his voice tinged with both awe and determination. "How do you channel chakra into your blade like that?"

Kirito paused, as if considering whether Akira was worthy of the knowledge. Finally, he sighed. "It's not something I can teach you in a day. But I'll show you the basics. Pay attention."

Kirito unsheathed his sword once more, holding it up for Akira to see. "The first thing you need to understand is that your sword is an extension of your body. You can't just force chakra into it. You need to feel it, guide it, like water flowing through a stream."

Akira nodded, his eyes fixed on the glowing edge of Kirito's blade. "How do you control it?"

Kirito's expression softened slightly, a rare hint of patience showing through his usual arrogance. "Close your eyes," he instructed. "Feel the chakra in your body. It's like a current, flowing through your veins. Now, imagine that current extending into your sword."

Akira did as he was told, gripping his sword tightly as he closed his eyes. He focused on the chakra within him, visualizing it as a glowing stream of energy. Slowly, he tried to push that energy into his blade. For a moment, he thought he felt something—a faint hum, a spark of connection—but it quickly fizzled out.

Kirito chuckled, not unkindly. "It's not going to happen on your first try. It took me years to master this. But you've got the right idea. Keep practicing, and one day, you might actually give me a challenge."