For a week, a shadow clung to Ryu, a silent, masked figure that was more of a jailer than a bodyguard. The Root Anbu was a constant presence, a silent ghost perched on rooftops or hidden in the trees, their blank mask a constant reminder of Danzo's suffocating interest. Ryu's anger grew into a cold, hard knot in his stomach. He couldn't train his Lightning Armour, he couldn't have a real, all-out spar with Itachi, he couldn't do anything that might reveal his true strength.
So, he adapted. His father, seeing his son's thirst for knowledge, had taught him the theory behind the forbidden Shadow Clone Jutsu, warning him of its dangers. In the quiet dark of his family's basement, surrounded by old furniture and the smell of dust, Ryu practiced. It took him two exhausting days, but he mastered it.
Now, a new routine began. Each morning, a shadow clone of Ryu, perfect in every detail, would walk out the front door and head to the Academy. And like clockwork, the masked Root agent would fall into step, tailing the clone. This left the real Ryu free.
In his hidden clearing, he worked on a new lightning jutsu. The idea was simple: create a dense ball of lightning and compress it until it could be fired like a beam. But the execution was a nightmare. He would form the crackling sphere in his palm, but the moment he tried to shrink it, the energy would become unstable and fly apart with a violent snap, leaving his hand numb and tingling. He didn't give up, spending hours trying to contain the wild energy.
After that, he would practice his new fire affinity. He would sit, feeling for the heat deep in his stomach, trying to coax it upward. He imagined striking a lighter, that first spark catching and igniting into a steady flame. For days, all he could manage were puffs of hot, smoky air. But after a week of constant effort, he finally produced a small, sputtering flame that danced from his lips for a second before dying. It was progress.
The afternoon sun beat down on the training ground. Izumi, tired from an earlier spar, sat in the shade, watching the controlled chaos of the three-way fight.
Hana was a force of nature, a whirlwind of claws and feral movements, her ninken clone fighting seamlessly at her side. She charged, forcing Ryu and Itachi to momentarily work together. Itachi unleashed a stream of fire, forcing Hana's clone to disperse, while Ryu used his wind-enhanced trench knives to parry the real Hana's attack.
The temporary alliance immediately broke. Itachi saw an opening and sent a volley of shuriken at Ryu. Ryu, using his Body Flicker, vanished, the shuriken thudding into the ground where he'd stood. He reappeared behind Hana, aiming a swift kick. But Itachi's Sharingan saw the move. A fireball from Itachi forced Ryu to abandon his attack and leap away.
The fight was a blur of shifting alliances and split-second decisions. Finally, Hana overextended on an attack and was caught in a simple but effective genjutsu by Itachi, leaving her dazed for a crucial few seconds. It left only two.
Ryu and Itachi faced each other, panting. Without a word, they charged. It was a fierce clash of taijutsu, Ryu's speed and power against Itachi's predictive grace. They exchanged blows, the air crackling around them, until they both leaped back and unleashed one final attack. Itachi's fireball met Ryu's powerful Gale Palm. The two jutsu exploded at the center, a blast of heat and wind that threw them both backward. They landed on their feet, exhausted, their chakra low. A draw.
An hour later, the smell of sizzling meat filled the air at the barbecue restaurant.
As they ate, Itachi looked at Ryu with his calm, knowing eyes. "Ryu," he said, his voice quiet but clear enough for their friends to hear. "Why have you been sending a shadow clone to the Academy all week?"
Hana and Izumi froze, their chopsticks hovering in mid-air. They turned to look at Ryu, surprised.
Ryu just smiled, a little tiredly. "You noticed, huh?" He took a bite of beef before answering. "The Academy is boring. They teach us things we already know. It's too slow. I thought my time was better spent training on my own."
He looked at his friends. "Honestly, we should all be doing it. We learn more fighting each other for one hour than we do in a whole week of classes. We could all train together, for real."
A silence fell over the table. Hana and Izumi looked at Itachi. He was the prodigy, the benchmark. Itachi considered Ryu's words, his expression thoughtful. He knew Ryu was right. Their spar today had been more valuable than any lesson.
"You're right," Itachi said finally, giving a decisive nod. "Training together, pushing each other, is the most logical way to get stronger."
"I'm in!" Hana shouted, slamming her fist on the table. Izumi gave a shy but firm nod of agreement.
"Great," Ryu said. "First things first." He looked at Hana. "You'll need to learn the Shadow Clone Jutsu. I can teach you." He then glanced at Itachi and Izumi. "And Itachi, you can help Izumi with her fundamentals."
Later that evening, they gathered at their usual training ground. Ryu stood opposite Hana, explaining the difficult principles of the jutsu. "You have to divide your chakra perfectly evenly. If you don't, the clone will be unstable."
Hana tried, her face screwed up in concentration. There was a puff of smoke, and a pale, lopsided version of her appeared for a second before melting into a puddle. She growled in frustration.
Across the field, Itachi was patiently correcting Izumi's punching form, his movements slow and deliberate as he showed her how to put her whole body into the strike.
Ryu watched his friends, a sense of satisfaction settling over him. He was still being watched, he knew. But he wasn't alone in his secret training anymore. They were a team now.
Hana tried again. This time, a solid, perfect copy of her appeared. She stared at it, her jaw dropping in amazement. She looked over at Ryu, Itachi, and Izumi, a huge, triumphant grin spreading across her face. In the fading light of the setting sun, they all shared a look of shared purpose. Their real training had just begun.