Chapter 49: Twin Paths of Training
Dawn broke across the village, painting Konoha in pale gold. In a clearing outside the village, Minato Namikaze stood, waiting, his calm expression sharpened with anticipation.
Akira arrived silently, no signs of fatigue from yesterday's battles. His eyes gleamed with energy that startled even Minato.
"You don't tire easily, do you?" Minato asked.
Akira chuckled. "Not really. I recover fast. My body's… different." He didn't explain further, and Minato didn't push. Jiraiya's warning rang in his head—"Don't let anyone know how special he really is."
"Then let's not waste time," Minato said, pulling out a handful of kunai marked with seals. "Today, I'll teach you about chakra control in motion. Speed is useless if you can't think and strike at the same time."
What followed was a blur of movement. Minato vanished with Body Flicker, kunai flashing, seals glowing. Akira tracked him with Golden Byakugan, countering with bursts of wind release so sharp they split the ground.
Hours passed like moments. When Minato finally called a stop, Akira was flushed but grinning. His chakra surged as though barely scratched.
Minato stared. Even Hashirama Senju… at his peak… couldn't recover this quickly.
But aloud he only said, "Good work. We'll push further tomorrow."
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By midday, the Academy bells rang. In the classroom, Akira and Kakashi sat at their desks, eyes on the chalkboard.
Except, of course, they weren't really there.
Their shadow clones absorbed the dull lessons, while the real boys had already slipped away into Akira's dimension.
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Sakumo Hatake was waiting, sword drawn, his presence commanding. "Ready?"
Kakashi answered with steel in his voice. "Always."
Akira smirked. "Let's go."
The training was harsher than before. Sakumo pressed them to exhaustion, breaking down every strike, every parry. He demanded they channel chakra into their blades until sparks and winds filled the air.
"Don't just swing a weapon," Sakumo barked. "A sword is alive. Respect it, and it will answer you."
By the time they collapsed in the grass, they were covered in sweat and cuts, yet neither complained.
Sakumo looked down at them, pride hidden behind his stern gaze. This… this is what will keep them alive when I can't.
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That night, back in his bed, Akira stared at the ceiling, exhausted yet restless. His body healed faster than he could comprehend. The Otsutsuki blood in him was dormant, quiet, but its power gave him limitless stamina, greater than even the First Hokage at his height.
It was both a blessing—and a burden.
He whispered into the darkness, "One step at a time. I'll carry it… just one step at a time."
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