# Chapter 8: Rankyaku
A bit of context is worth establishing first.
The original Lee from the anime and manga was a genuine prodigy within the realm of Taijutsu — one in a million, right alongside Might Guy and his father. Learning to open five of the Eight Gates in just a year and a half meant being truly exceptional at the art of pushing the human body past every limit it has. Though it was also worth acknowledging that without his teacher, Rock likely would never have reached that level — but a natural gift for the martial arts was a natural gift, and no one could take that away from him.
Lee was a Taijutsu genius. All he needed was the right mentor and the right motivation.
Of course, Reanimated Madara, Obito, Nagato, Kaguya, and the rest of the Otsutsuki family didn't care about any of that. People like them had no need for training when they had bloodlines and Kekkei Mora to fall back on. Then again, who said it was going to be easy?
*The Hell's Training System. With this, I'm going to tear apart every cheat-code existence in the world of shinobi. I want to swallow them whole and not even notice. That's another goal for my life — to become a master. To become the strongest of them all. From rags to legend.*
A blazing, resolute fire ignited behind Rock's eyes, burning like a star.
At the moment, Lee was standing several meters from the wooden training dummy with his right leg raised. Again and again, the thick-browed boy sent kicks slicing through empty air, periodically pushing for more speed, more force. But nothing useful was happening — only a faint breeze stirred from the sharp snapping motions of his leg. In short, Rankyaku wasn't working. If you wanted to be precise about it, it wasn't working at all.
*Interesting. Why?*
In the world of pirates, there was no unusual energy flowing through the body — none of the sort, anyway, except for Haki, that mysterious and inexplicable force used for "observation" and "armament." So the Rokushiki combat style, and Rankyaku specifically, was nothing more than compressed razor-sharp blades of air that you simply had to learn to release. That was all. Simple in theory. But no — it only sounded simple. In practice, Lee was stuck in place, going nowhere, cross-referencing the training method that had imprinted from the morning's Bronze Chest.
So there was nothing for it.
He kept striking the air. Attempt after attempt, the strained tendons and muscles screaming, sweat pouring down and mixing with the rising dust that stung his eyes — all in the hope of what, exactly?
A spiritual revelation. The kind that came to masters of the martial arts.
Fortunately for Rock, fate was not in the habit of abandoning its responsibilities.
Proof of that came in the form of a man walking past the training grounds just then — a man in a green jumpsuit worn over a flak vest, with thick curly hair styled into the gleaming bowl cut that could only belong to one person.
Might Guy, one of the most powerful Jonin in the Hidden Leaf Village, furrowed his own considerable brows in deep contemplation and peered carefully at the thin figure working through his drills. To an untrained eye, the boy didn't look like he was training so much as playfully swatting at the air, judging by the jagged, uneven movements and the ragged, winded breathing he was using to fuel them.
Guy couldn't help shaking his head at the sight. Then his signature warm smile broke across his face, and he understood — the kid was clearly trying to replicate a technique he'd seen somewhere. He already knew Lee by reputation for his efforts in Taijutsu, and there was even a vague sense that they'd crossed paths recently, however briefly and without any real awareness of it.
"What are you working on, kid?"
Lee flinched, dropping his leg and startling badly at the sudden low, booming voice that rang out nearby. But when he opened his round eyes and saw the familiar thick-browed man strolling peacefully along the path in his legendary jumpsuit with the hip-worn forehead protector, Rock let out a quiet laugh under his breath and relaxed a little, responding with both a friendly nod and the following words:
"Usually I work the training post — getting used to the load, training through pain. But today I decided to just do some shadow work instead. Why?"
"Nothing bad — don't misread me. It's just that there's something in you, that very Power of Youth that I live for with blood blazing in my veins, and as a devoted follower of the Taijutsu path who is respected by all, I cannot ignore the mistakes that would escape an inexperienced eye — especially watching someone who is clearly giving everything they have and genuinely trying to grow, but where is the rhythm? You have none of it! Your strikes are jagged and uneven — they're no good for landing a solid, driving hit! Just be smoother. Follow my lead. Ready? Let's go!"
Guy ignited into a long, sudden, torrential speech, then immediately dropped into the same stance as Lee and raised his right leg.
*Is this actually happening?*
Rock had no idea how Might Guy had ended up standing in front of him at all, let alone apparently prepared to teach him something without any particular reason — despite the fact that they were complete strangers, not even a student and teacher. At least, not yet.
But whatever the explanation, Lee watched in absolute fascination as the man in the green jumpsuit drove kick after kick through the air with the clean, precise snap of a taut bowstring — making every master from his past life look like a joke. Each of Guy's strikes was accompanied by a riot of displaced wind, and most importantly, a sound like a gunshot. Second by second, his right leg began to literally blur before Lee's eyes, the speed surpassing every frame of reference available to him.
Lee's hair — short tail and all — whipped and fluttered beneath the miniature hurricane Guy was generating. The wind stroked and cut at his cheeks in turns, like some animal that couldn't decide whether it was kind or savage.
Something inside Rock surged with the urge to burst into thunderous applause. He watched the whole brilliant display, appreciated it fully, valued it the way it deserved to be valued — and then he realized he had no time for that. Guy wasn't performing this in front of him for empty admiration. So instead of clapping, Lee closed his eyes, shut out the howling of the wind entirely, and entered a state of meditation, focusing inward — on his mind, and on the chakra flowing quietly through his channels.
In his memory — no, more accurately in his consciousness — the motions of Rankyaku began playing out in vivid, newly illuminated detail.
Might Guy stopped throwing his kicks into the air. He simply broke into a wide smile.
He'd done what he came to do. He gave a thumbs-up, and disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Lee was somewhere inside his own head now. Inspiration, revelation — call it whatever you liked — but it was as if everything had opened up before him. The curtain of fog had lifted from something that had been hidden behind it, something he hadn't had the strength to reach before.
In any case, deep in genuine trance, Lee felt the image of Rankyaku becoming more and more tangible right there in his hands — his practically luminous hands. He didn't know how much time passed, or how many hours drifted by — but it was only when the cold, mysterious moon was casting its glow across the earth that Rock finally stirred, revealing dark eyes and the most serious expression he'd worn all day.
His chakra reserve surged. The tenketsu along his legs practically swelled as the channels in those areas registered the force of something breaking through. He swung his leg, and a blue chakra shell enveloped his right foot — and then he released everything that had built up inside him.
A thundering, vibrating sound rolled across the training grounds. The chakra blade — wrapped in wind and born from the arc of Rock's kick — sliced clean through the wooden dummy in two, smooth and precise as a brushstroke from a master calligrapher. Tremendous force, lethal danger — and a significant cost in chakra. Roughly a quarter of his full reserve, gone.
*[Chakra: 78%]*
*Unlike Ninjutsu and elemental transformation, what I released was raw, unrefined chakra — shaped into a blade simply because I kicked through the air. It cost too much. That's the first flaw, and it's showing me clearly that nothing comes out perfect right away. I'll have to refine it. If I don't, I'll be passing out from exhaustion after just a few Rankyaku in a real fight…*
Lee turned the problem over in his mind, already mapping out the rough shape of his training plan.