The days rolled on, but the rhythm of their training had evolved. Just as Yuki had suspected during his intense Flying Raijin sessions, Tokasu had quietly mastered the Shadow Clone Jutsu. Now, with time finally freer, they resumed their old weekend ritual — sparring and pushing each other's limits — but with a new edge: ninjutsu.
Sayaka sat at the edge of the training ground, her eyes sharp and expectant, watching the two boys with keen interest.
Today was the day to fully integrate ninjutsu into their sparring.
The air crackled as Yuki and Tokasu faced off. Tokasu melted into the shadows, his form flickering as if he were part of the darkness itself. Yuki's breath formed faint mist in the warm air, the subtle blue flames of his frostfire dancing along his sword's edge.
They clashed with the roar of steel and elemental fury. Tokasu's kenjutsu was a shadowy dance — swift strikes blended with misdirection, shadows wrapping around his limbs to extend his reach and confuse his opponent. But Yuki countered with exquisite control of his frostfire. With a sweep of his blade, icy blue flames surged forward, freezing the ground Tokasu stood on just moments before he leapt away. In the next instant, Yuki's sword burst into fierce flames, scorching the air with searing heat — a brilliant display of fire release at odds with the cold, forcing Tokasu to rethink his approach.
Their kenjutsu was relentless, blows exchanged with breathless speed. Tokasu used shadows to cloak his movements, striking from impossible angles, but Yuki's keen senses and mastery of the elemental dance kept him a step ahead.
Suddenly, Tokasu formed a new hand sign — two fingers crossed with two others — and with a sharp exhale, multiple shadow clones erupted around Yuki, the secret technique he'd been training in secret. The clones spread out, each mirroring Tokasu's fighting style, pushing forward in unison.
Tokasu's eyes sparkled with hope — he was finally catching Yuki off guard.
But Yuki only smiled, calm and confident, as if he had been waiting for this moment.
"You learned something new, Toku. Cool jutsu," Yuki said, voice smooth and teasing.
Tokasu's heart skipped. He pushed harder, multiple Tokasus charging, shadows twisting and striking. The pressure mounted, and it felt as if the tides were finally turning — maybe this would be Tokasu's first win.
But Yuki never wavered. His eyes sharp, his stance steady.
"Did you think I wasn't learning too?" Yuki's smile widened.
In an instant, he materialized a handful of ice kunai, each shimmering with frostfire energy. With a flick of his wrist, he launched them at the advancing clones.
Some exploded midair in bursts of icy flame, others sliced through clones with lethal precision. The illusions shattered into smke, leaving Tokasu momentarily stunned.
Not wasting a beat, Tokasu pressed forward, desperate to end the fight. But then—
Yuki vanished.
Not with the usual shimmer of his advanced body flicker, but in a blinding white flash, faster than anything Tokasu had ever seen.
The air itself seemed to tear as Yuki's form reappeared — a streak of silver and blue light, an unstoppable force of nature.
One by one, Yuki's strikes cut through the remaining clones, each slash leaving trails of frostfire that flickered and faded like ghostly embers.
Then, suddenly, Yuki teleported to a kunai in front of Tokasu, sword pointed directly at his chest.
Tokasu froze.
No dodge. No block.
Just wide, dumbfounded eyes.
Sayaka, watching from the sidelines, mirrored his reaction—mouth open, eyes wide as the world seemed to hold its breath.
Yuki's sword hovered mere inches from Tokasu's chest, the faint glow of frostfire still flickering along the blade's edge. His breaths came heavy and ragged, sweat dripping down his face as the immense strain of using the forbidden jutsu weighed on him. The blinding flash of light and the incredible speed had taken everything he had—his chakra nearly drained.
Sayaka's eyes widened, shining with awe and curiosity. "That… that was unbelievable, Yuki! I've never seen anything move like that before."
Tokasu's usual calm was broken by a rare spark of excitement, his gaze fixed on Yuki with newfound respect. "I can't believe how fast you were. That was on a whole different level—faster than anything I've ever seen."
Yuki forced a tired smile, wiping the sweat from his brow. "It's not something I can explain. It's a forbidden jutsu, something only a few have ever used — said to be the technique of the Fourth Hokage."
Sayaka's eyes brightened with intrigue. "Forbidden? Seriously? That sounds amazing! You have to teach me someday."
Yuki shook his head gently, eyes serious. "I can't teach you that jutsu. It's not for sharing."
Tokasu nodded, admiration and disbelief mixed on his face. "No wonder you looked drained… but damn, that was impressive."
Sayaka's grin didn't fade. "Well, since you're out of energy, I want to spar with you next time. I've been working on some new jutsu myself."
Yuki gave a tired chuckle, wiping sweat from his brow. "I'd like that, but not today. I'm almost completely out of chakra after just a couple uses of that technique. I need to recover."
Sayaka smiled knowingly. "Then rest up, mystery man. Next time, I'm not going easy on you."
Tokasu gave Yuki a light shove on the shoulder. "Try not to flash out of existence in our next spar. It's getting hard to keep up with your show-off stunts."
Yuki just smirked, eyes half-lidded with fatigue but sparkling with satisfaction.
With the sky now painted in hues of gold and deep orange, they parted ways for the evening, their minds buzzing with what had just unfolded. Sayaka walked with a bounce in her step, planning out her next training. Tokasu kept glancing back, still wondering what exactly he had witnessed. And Yuki… Yuki walked in silence, tired but grinning to himself.
In the days that followed, Yuki persuaded Tokasu—through relentless pestering and light bribery—to teach him the Shadow Clone Jutsu. Once he had it down, a whole new world opened to him. Now he could train faster, smarter. His clones could work on his swordsmanship, elemental control, and more—all while he strategized how to integrate Flying Raijin without risking exposure.
He was finally building the arsenal he'd dreamed of. No more holding back. No more wasted hours.
His Frostfire control was sharpening with each passing day. His kenjutsu was becoming instinct. And somewhere deep inside, the Flying Thunder God technique pulsed with untapped potential.
And just like that, the school year flew by.
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Missions, drills, and evaluations came and went. But for Yuki, the true growth happened in the quiet moments—the late-night solo sessions, the hidden training with his clones, the countless repetitions of sword strikes until his arms went numb.
The other students continued to improve, but Yuki was evolving.
He no longer needed to show off. Power spoke for itself.
Among his classmates, rumors began to spread. Whispers of impossible speed, of a blur of frost and flame cleaving through training dummies like they were paper. Some said he was touched by the spirits, others that he carried the will of something ancient in his blood. Yuki ignored them all.
What mattered was what came next.