Uncle Yamamoto had decided to make a strong impression on Raizen. He picked up a handful of Senbon and looked around at the crowd of children, deliberately amplifying his voice.
"I'm optimistic. Next, I'll demonstrate a famous B-rank ninjutsu in our clan. Even many Jōnin cannot master it!"
The children stared in disbelief. Raizen smirked. Of course they couldn't. There were only a handful of Jōnin in the family, each focused on their specialty. Most wouldn't bother learning this technique even if they could.
"Ahem!" Uncle Yamamoto cleared his throat, frustrated at their lack of respect. He condensed a rumbling current of chakra between his palms. The air itself seemed to hum.
"Lightning Style: Thousand Thunders!"
"Stab!"
With a shout, the Senbon in his hands ignited with flickering thunder. He hurled them forward. The needles streaked like bolts of lightning, smashing through a wall with a thunderous roar.
"Wow!"
The children cried out in awe, and even Yamamoto-san's face betrayed a hint of pride. Raizen studied the destroyed wall, calculating and observing. The technique's principle was clear: it relied on manipulating the thunder-nature chakra—an inherently difficult task—but the mechanics were surprisingly simple.
Unlike Chidori, which required shaping chakra and a carrier, this jutsu needed only precise manipulation of lightning-nature chakra to infuse the Senbon. The result: high-speed, thunder-imbued projectiles capable of piercing solid walls.
"How about you, Raizen? Remember humility when practicing, understand?" Yamamoto-san said, assuming his teacher persona, noticing Raizen's intense scrutiny.
Raizen returned to the moment, focusing his chakra into his palm. Lightning-nature chakra began to condense, crackling and colliding until sparks erupted, roaring like a thousand birds. His hand was a tempest of raw energy.
"This…this…this!"
Yamamoto-san's eyes widened. The ability to manipulate lightning-nature chakra at this level was the culmination of his own life's work—a feat even most Jōnin couldn't achieve. And yet here was Raizen, replicating it with frightening ease. A pang of surprise—and a trace of melancholy—crossed Yamamoto-san's eyes.
The bird-like chirping of crackling lightning faded. Raizen's arm tingled and throbbed. The raw collision of lightning-nature chakra, compressed without perfect control, had sent feedback into his muscles and joints. His mind raced.
So this was the cost of sloppy chakra control. Precision wasn't optional—it was survival. His body burned with the lesson.
"The perfect control of chakra… absolutely critical."
For the first time, Raizen felt the sharp truth: manipulating elemental chakra wasn't just about strength or reserves. To bend nature to one's will required flawless control, and his current skills were far from sufficient. He gritted his teeth, silently noting that his training had just jumped from "novice" to "life-or-death trial" in one terrifying step.