Chapter 55 – Beyond the Teacher's Reach
While Konoha bustled with preparations, far from the tension of the council room, Akira's days were consumed with training under Minato and Kushina.
Morning began with Minato. The two sparred across the river plain outside the training grounds. Explosions of wind tore through trees, lightning danced along the water's surface, and earth walls rose and shattered in an instant.
Akira had long since mastered the basics, but now Minato pushed him to refine—to bend each chakra nature to his will as if it were second nature. Wind blades sliced with surgical precision, fireballs compacted into near-invisible bursts of heat, water surged in smooth waves, and lightning arced into controlled threads. Even yin–yang release, though strange and delicate, flowed more steadily under Akira's hand.
"Your control…" Minato panted as he lowered his stance after their last clash, "…it's already beyond most jōnin. I can't think of a single element you haven't bent to your will."
Afternoons belonged to Kushina. With her, it wasn't about destruction—it was about creation. Fūinjutsu.
Under her guidance, Akira moved past brushes and ink. He no longer needed parchment to weave seals; his chakra itself became the brush, tracing glowing patterns into the air or ground. Barrier seals, storage seals, suppression chains—all of them flowed out of him with elegance. Kushina often crossed her arms, watching him with that fiery smile of hers, and muttered:
"Show-off."
One evening, after hours of pushing his chakra into an advanced barrier seal that shimmered like glass, Akira exhaled and let the construct fade. Minato and Kushina exchanged glances.
"Akira," Minato finally said, his tone unusually serious. "You've mastered everything Kushina and I could offer. From elemental ninjutsu to sealing techniques, you've absorbed it all. Faster than anyone I've ever seen."
Kushina stepped forward, hands on her hips, her expression both proud and exasperated. "Honestly, you brat, even I wasn't this fast. And I'm me."
For the first time in a while, Akira allowed himself a small smile. But Minato pressed on:
"We've reached the limit of what we can give you. If there's something—something new—that you want to learn, tell us. I'll help guide you however I can."
The sun dipped low, painting the training ground in gold. Akira stood silently for a moment, the wind ruffling his hair. His Golden Byakugan pulsed faintly, like an echo waiting to be acknowledged.
He had mastered their teachings. But in the silence, he wondered—
what path was his alone to carve?
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