Naruto: Stormbreaker

Chapter 10: Chapter 10: Caretakers Hate Him. Find Out Why with This One Chakra Trick They Don’t Want You to Know!

Since Ayaka somehow manages to find me every time I land in the hospital, I decided it was time to be extra careful with my training. I can already augment my body and movements with chakra to a decent degree. It’s stable, it lasts a good while, and I don’t lose control often. But one collision is enough. After my last little incident, I learned something important. Power’s cool and all, but without control, it’s just a flashy shortcut to a hospital bed. Or a grave.

I didn’t crawl my way out of death just to die by face-planting into a wall like a moron.

I used to be a patient, persistent, and calculated killer. If I’m going to walk the path to real power, I should act the same way. Be focused. Think ahead.

Ayaka gave me a couple days of rest, probably to make sure I didn’t go and destroy more property. So I took the time to improve my chakra control. I had already gotten the hang of sticking multiple leaves to different parts of my body. That wasn’t the issue anymore. Now I wanted precision. Could I keep chakra flowing in one area while cutting it off in another, right next to it, without losing both? That’s what I set out to figure out.

And holy hell, it was harder than it sounded.

Still, I had nothing else going on. I was poor as dirt. Honestly, I think some dirt might own more things than me. And this orphanage? Basically a wooden prison serving rice three ways. The other kids were just kids, loud, clueless, and obsessed with whatever nonsense kids care about. I didn’t talk to them. We didn’t think alike. I didn’t belong here.

But I had time. Time, drive, and the kind of stubbornness you only get when you’ve got literally nothing else to do.

So I trained. Every single day. Even after the rest period ended. I stayed focused on the same task. I stuck leaves across my body, then slowly started cutting off chakra to one leaf at a time. The goal was to make only that leaf fall, while the rest stayed put. Over and over. Fail. Try again. Fail again. Keep going.

By the end of the week, I managed to hold three leaves while making the fourth drop exactly when I wanted it to on my arm. It felt like threading a needle inside my own muscles. A small win, maybe. But I’d take it.

After that, I jumped back into physical training. I ran laps around the orphanage with leaves stuck to different parts of my body. To push it further, I cut off chakra to random limbs mid-run, forcing my body to keep balance. All while trying not to eat dirt in front of the caretakers. I wore baggy clothes, held my sleeves tight, and tied my pants down to keep the leaves from falling out. I looked like a knockoff Aladdin, but hey. It worked.

I didn’t go back to overflow chakra enhancement just yet. I wanted better control first. No more blasting myself through walls.

That afternoon, after a decent lunch, I decided to test something new. If it worked, it could help me control jutsu output with more accuracy and it would work towards my next training. I grabbed a cup of water and a pitcher, then sat cross-legged on my bed. I held my hand just above the surface of the cup and started funneling chakra into my fingertips.

The goal? Create ripples without touching the water. The second I made contact, I failed.

Sounds easy, right?

Wrong.

On the first try, I pushed way too much chakra through. The water shot out of the cup like I’d cast a water-style jutsu. It soaked my face, my shirt, and my bed.

I sat there, blinking, then muttered, ”Awesome. Now the caretakers are gonna think I wet the bed.”

I sighed, peeled off my soaked clothes, and laid them out on the window next to the sheets. Then I refilled the cup and moved to the floor, still dripping like a sad, freshly dunked cat.

This time, I dialed my chakra way down. Just a trickle. Enough to tickle the surface, not launch it sky-high. I didn’t want another disaster. I’d already traumatized half the forest learning tree-walking. Pretty sure I caused a mini ecological collapse back there. Somewhere, a squirrel is still having nightmares about me and I did not want to do the same to the cups and floors of the orphanage.

An hour passed. Still nothing. Another hour. The water level dropped from all the failed attempts, but I stayed with it.

Then, finally, it happened.

A ripple. Then another. Gentle. Steady. Exactly the way I wanted.

I grinned. Control. Finally.

And then the door creaked open.

One of the caretakers stepped inside. Tall guy with tired eyes and graying olive hair, holding a fresh set of bedsheets.

He froze.

There I was. Sitting on the floor, almost naked, soaking wet, surrounded by spilled water, fingers hovering over a cup, and wearing the most unhinged smile I’d probably ever had.

He looked at me, and I looked at him. AND HE LOOKED AT ME! AND I LOOKED AT HIM!

Then he turned around, walked out, and quietly closed the door behind him.

Later, I heard that he asked to be transferred to a different orphanage.

I never saw him again.