"Nothing," Hikaru said, looking down at the rubber ball in his hands. The weight of it felt heavier than usual as he rolled it between his palms. "I'm only suggesting what if she's still alive, but it sounds even unbelievable to me."
Ayako studied his face for a long moment, her eyes searching for something she couldn't quite identify. The silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant sounds of the village settling into evening routines.
"Sometimes hope can be more painful than acceptance," she said softly, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. "Hideaki-san made his peace with losing her long ago. Maybe it's better to let sleeping sorrows rest."
Hikaru nodded slowly, though his grip tightened on the rubber ball. "You're probably right."
"It's been a long day," Ayako said, rising to her feet with a gentle smile. "You should get some rest."
"Yeah," Hikaru agreed, setting the ball back on his desk. "Good night, Onee-chan."
"Good night, Hikaru-kun."
After she left, Hikaru stared at the closed door for several minutes, his mind churning with possibilities he couldn't voice. The rubber ball seemed to mock him from its perch beside his forehead protector, a reminder of techniques still unmastered and knowledge he couldn't share.
Sleep came fitfully that night, filled with dreams of red hair and bite marks and a man's desperate search through burning villages. When morning light finally crept through his window, Hikaru felt as though he'd barely rested at all.
Early morning light filled Training Ground Eight as Team 8 gathered for practice. Hikaru arrived to find Nobue already in position, sitting in the same posture under an oak tree. Hana stretched nearby, the Haimaru brothers sniffing around the training posts with obvious energy.
"Good morning, everyone," Hideaki called out cheerfully as he emerged from behind a cluster of trees. "Ready for another day of—"
Hideaki arrived with his usual cheerful greeting, but paused when he noticed Hikaru's strange expression.
"Good morning, Hikaru-kun," Hideaki said, tilting his head slightly. "You seem quiet today. Everything alright?"
"Yes, sensei," Hikaru replied quickly. "Just thinking about yesterday's mission."
The explanation seemed to satisfy Hideaki, though Hikaru caught himself glancing at his instructor a few times during warm-up exercises. Ayako's story had given him a new perspective on the man who trained them, and he found himself noticing things he'd missed before—the way Hideaki's smile sometimes didn't quite reach his eyes, or how he seemed to pause when certain topics came up.
"Focus on your footwork, Hikaru-kun," Hideaki instructed during their taijutsu practice. "Your mind seems elsewhere today."
"Sorry, sensei," Hikaru muttered, forcing himself to concentrate on the familiar movements.
Two weeks passed in a blur of missions and training, each assignment building Team 8's confidence and coordination. The leadership rotation system had worked exactly as planned, giving each member experience directing their teammates through various challenges.
The garden work at the Akimichi compound had been straightforward under Nobue's leadership. Nobue had organized the team well, dividing the garden work carefully. His steady planning had kept them working in order throughout the day.
The delivery mission to various clan compounds had gone smoothly with Hikaru coordinating routes and timing. His organizational skills had kept them on schedule while finding the most efficient paths through the village. Leading the team had felt natural.
But Hana's turn leading their library scroll sorting assignment had been more eventful. Her enthusiasm had led to an overly ambitious organization system that had resulted in several hours of frantic re-sorting when they realized they'd mixed historical records with active mission files.
"Next time," Hideaki had said with a patient smile as they finished correcting the confusion, "maybe start with the order that's already in place before trying to improve it."
"Yes, sensei," Hana had replied sheepishly, though her teammates had assured her that everyone made leadership mistakes.
Despite the minor setback, their mission success rate remained perfect, and Hideaki's evaluations continued to show steady improvement across all areas. The awkwardness between Hikaru and his sensei had gradually faded as routine reasserted itself, though moments of searching looks still occurred.
It was during one of these routine walks through the village after a successful delivery mission that Hikaru spotted familiar figures through the window of a dango shop. The familiar warmth of the establishment enveloped him as he pushed through the entrance, the sweet smell of grilled dumplings making his stomach rumble.
"Hikaru-kun!" Yuki waved from a corner table where she sat with Kenta and Ryōta. "Come join us!"
"It's been too long," Ryōta said as Hikaru settled into the empty chair beside them. "How's the famous genin life treating you?"
"Exhausting," Hikaru replied with a genuine smile, accepting the dango stick Yuki offered him. "But rewarding. We've been doing a lot of D-rank missions."
"Better than academy homework," Kenta groaned, slumping over the table heavily. "Yumi-sensei has completely lost her mind with assignments. Yesterday she gave us so much work that I joked she wants me to write history homework with my right hand while answering geography questions with my left."
The group laughed at his exaggerated despair, but Hikaru's smile faltered as something clicked in his mind. Write with one hand while working with the other. The concept sparked a memory from his previous life, something he'd read in wuxia novels about training mental division.
"That's actually not a bad idea," Hikaru said slowly, his voice growing thoughtful.
"What?" Kenta stared at him in horror. "Don't encourage her! She might actually try it!"
"No, I mean the concept of doing two different things simultaneously," Hikaru continued, his mind racing. "Training your brain to handle multiple tasks at once."
"You're starting to sound like a real shinobi," Yuki observed with amusement. "Always thinking about training applications."
"Maybe," Hikaru admitted, though internally he was already planning how to incorporate this idea into his routine.
They spent another hour catching up on academy gossip and sharing stories about their different paths. The conversation flowed easily, reminding Hikaru of simpler times before the weight of missions and hidden knowledge.
"Oh, and did you hear about Seiji-kun?" Yuki said while looking at Hikaru. "He got moved from our class up to Class A last week."
"Yeah, that's a bummer" Kenta asked. "His scores were terrible just a month ago."
"He came from a big clan after all," Ryōta said. "I heard that the clan request for him to move up from our class to the elite one."
Hikaru frowned, thinking of the boy that used to bully everyone including him.
As they finished their dango on their hand to leave, Kenta shook his head ruefully. "I still can't believe you're out there doing real ninja work while we're stuck memorizing trade routes."
"Your time will come," Hikaru assured him. "And when it does, all that theoretical knowledge will be more valuable than you think."
"Speaking of real ninja work," Ryōta said, lowering his voice slightly, "have you heard the news about the western borders? Obaachan (grandma) mentioned there's been some tension building up when she was at the market."
"What kind of tension?" Hikaru asked, his attention sharpening.
"Border disputes," Yuki replied, pushing aside her empty dango stick. "Something about increased bandit activity and missing people near the Kusagakure. Yumi-sensei mentioned it during one of our current events discussions."
Ryōta nodded seriously. "Obaachan heard from other villagers that more Konoha shinobi have been deployed to patrol the border areas. Nothing major yet, but enough to make people nervous."
"Missing people?" Hikaru repeated, a chill running down his spine that had nothing to do with the weather.
"Civilians mostly," Yuki said. "But also some traveling ninja and merchant. The routes that used to be safe are getting dangerous again."
"It's probably just normal border stuff," Kenta said, though his voice carried less certainty than usual. As someone without family connections, he often heard village gossip differently than the others. "You know how these things go - tension rises, then everything settles down again."
But Hikaru found himself thinking about Kusagakure and wondering if this instability might somehow be connected to the larger forces at work in the ninja world. Border tensions often meant more than simple bandit problems.
The conversation gradually shifted to lighter topics as they finished their dango, but the news about border tensions lingered in Hikaru's mind as they prepared to leave.
The idea Kenta had unknowingly planted continued to grow during Hikaru's walk home. By the time he reached his house, he was eager to test the theory that had been forming in his mind.
Back in his room that evening, Hikaru sat at his desk with two brushes and two sheets of paper. The conversation with Kenta had sparked an idea that he couldn't shake – the training method of drawing different shapes with each hand simultaneously to develop mental division.
He'd read about it in wuxia novels during his previous life, where masters would train the main character to split their consciousness by having them draw circles with one hand and squares with the other. The theory was that mastering this technique would allow the mind to process multiple complex tasks independently.
For his Rasengan training, this could be revolutionary. If he could learn to divide his focus, he might be able to maintain the rotation while adding power and control simultaneously, rather than struggling to balance all three elements at once.
Plus, if he mastered it, he might be able to use one-handed seals while fighting with the other hand. That would give him a huge advantage in combat.
Hikaru picked up both brushes, dipping them in ink. "Alright," he muttered to himself, "circle with the right hand, square with the left."
He began moving both hands, trying to coordinate the different motions. The circle started well enough, but as soon as he tried to form the square's first corner, his right hand wavered. The circle became an oval, then a squiggle, while the square looked more like a child's drawing.
"This is harder than it looks," he said, frowning at the messy results.
He tried again, moving more slowly this time. The shapes were slightly better, but maintaining the independence of each hand while his brain tried to coordinate both movements felt like trying to pat his head and rub his stomach while solving math problems.
After fifteen minutes of increasingly frustrated attempts, Hikaru set down the brushes and rubbed his temples. "No wonder the novels made it sound so difficult."
But despite the failure, he felt excited about the potential. This wasn't something that would be mastered in a day or even a week. It would require the same patient dedication he'd applied to chakra control and other fundamental skills.
Hikaru pulled out his training schedule and added a new entry: "Ambidexterity training – 30 minutes daily." If this technique could help him break through the barriers in his Rasengan development, the time investment would be worth it.
Setting aside the failed drawings, he reached for the rubber ball he'd been working with for weeks. The second stage of Rasengan training required not just rotation, but power – enough force to burst the rubber while maintaining the spinning motion.
Hikaru formed the basic rotation in his palm, feeling the familiar sensation of chakra spinning in a tight sphere. But this time, instead of just maintaining it, he began adding pressure. The rubber ball trembled in his hand as the competing forces fought for dominance.
"Come on," he whispered, increasing the chakra output gradually. "Just a little more..."
The ball began to bulge as the rotation intensified. Hikaru felt sweat beading on his forehead as he pushed his chakra control to its limits, trying to maintain the delicate balance between power and precision.
With a sharp crack, the rubber ball split down the middle and fell to the floor in two pieces.
"Yes!" Hikaru exclaimed, staring at the destroyed ball with satisfaction. "Finally!"
He picked up the pieces, examining the clean tear that showed the technique had worked properly. This was real progress – proof that his chakra reserves and control had reached the level needed for the second stage.
Sitting back in his chair, Hikaru assessed his current capabilities. His chakra reserves had definitely grown over the past months of intensive training. Where once he could barely maintain academy jutsu for more than a few minutes, now he felt like he was operating at the level of a normal genin, maybe even slightly above average for his age.
"One step closer," he said to himself, rolling the rubber ball pieces between his fingers. The third stage would be even more challenging, requiring him to combine rotation, power, and control while maintaining the technique without a container.
But that was a problem for another day. Tonight, he had two new training methods to incorporate into his routine, and both showed promise for accelerating his development in ways he'd never considered before.
Hikaru gathered the failed drawings and rubber ball pieces, cleaning up his practice area. He paused, considering the magnitude of what he was attempting to master. Minato, the original creator, had taken three years to complete the Rasengan. Jiraiya probably took less than a year, and Naruto had ridiculously managed it in one month with shadow clones. Even with his experience and well-planned approach, Hikaru wondered how long it would take for him to master it.
"Two different shapes, two different hands," he said, looking at the brushes he'd set aside. "If someone in the novel could do it, so can I."
He picked up the brushes again, determined to make at least a little progress before calling it a night.
"Let's try this one more time."