The month passed in a blur of sweat, bruises, and the searing heat of newly mastered flames. Ryu's life settled into a rhythm dictated by the rising and setting of the sun, his world shrinking to the size of Hiruzen Sarutobi's training ground. The progress he made was immense, forged in the crucible of a Kage's personal tutelage.
His fire release, once a sputtering candle flame, now roared with the intensity of a furnace. Hiruzen, a true master of the element, had guided him through the Sarutobi clan's most treasured techniques. Ryu learned to shape fire not as a projectile, but as a living entity. The $Fire\ Release:\ Great\ Flame\ Technique$ was not a ball, but a devastating, all-consuming wave of fire that could turn the battlefield to ash. He learned the elegant, deadly dance of the $Fire\ Release:\ Blazing\ Phoenix\ Force$, a jutsu that wreathed him in the form of a fiery bird, turning his taijutsu into a searing assault.
He also learned to blend his affinities, a skill Hiruzen was particularly fascinated by. Ryu would weave a current of wind into his fire dragon, turning it from a simple projectile into a self-sustaining vortex of infernal, superheated plasma.
His taijutsu, too, underwent a profound transformation. He slowly incorporated the principles of the Senju style, but it was the introduction of Yang Release that made the true difference. He learned to channel that raw life force into his strikes, not just to enhance power, but to create an explosive, vital impact. A simple palm strike could now splinter a thick training log from the inside out.
The most surprising development was in kenjutsu. Hiruzen presented him with a simple, unadorned black baton. At first, Ryu was skeptical. A stick? But his skepticism evaporated the day Hiruzen demonstrated its true potential. With a puff of smoke and a surge of chakra, the old Hokage summoned the Monkey King: Enma. In a flash of insight, Ryu watched the legendary summon transform into the Adamantine Staff, a weapon harder than diamond, capable of extending to impossible lengths.
"This simple baton," Hiruzen had said, tapping the staff, which had returned to its smaller form, "is the foundation. Master it, and you will understand how to wield any weapon, for it is not the blade that is deadly, but the will of the hand that guides it." Ryu took the lesson to heart, mastering the basic forms with a new, fervent dedication.
Sometimes, in the evenings, his parents would visit the Sarutobi estate, bringing a basket of fresh vegetables or a small cake from Mebuki's kitchen. They would thank Hiruzen profusely, their faces glowing with a pride so bright it was almost tangible. Hiruzen would simply smile, assuring them that the pleasure was all his.
At the Academy, Ryu's presence became a rare and curious thing. His clone still attended, but the real Ryu, focused on his training with Hiruzen, no longer joined the after-school spars as regularly.
One afternoon, his friends cornered him. "Hey! Where have you been?" Hana demanded, her hands on her hips. "You've missed, like, a dozen fights!"
Itachi and Izumi stood beside her, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and concern.
Ryu offered them a tired but genuine smile. "Sorry, guys. I've been… busy." He saw the doubt in their eyes and decided the truth was the only option. "Hiruzen Sarutobi has been training me personally."
The confession landed with the force of a physical blow. Hana's jaw dropped. Izumi's eyes went wide. Itachi, however, simply stared at him for a long moment, the surprise in his eyes slowly melting into a look of profound understanding and respect. A slow, determined smile spread across his face.
"The Third Hokage himself," Itachi said, his voice quiet but filled with a new energy. "Good luck, Ryu. I look forward to our duel, after we graduate."
The challenge was clear, a friendly but absolute declaration of their rivalry. In that month, Itachi hadn't been idle. Training relentlessly with his father and the prodigious Shisui Uchiha, the tomoe in his Sharingan had multiplied, now a complete set of three in each eye. Hana, too, had been pushed to her limits by her formidable mother, and Izumi had blossomed under Itachi's patient tutelage.
Ryu's most frequent sparring partner, however, became Hana. Their styles were a perfect, chaotic match. His grounded, powerful taijutsu was the rock against which her feral, unpredictable storm would break. Their fights were a whirlwind of motion that always ended in exhaustion and laughter. Afterward, without fail, he would take her to his favorite dango shop and buy her the sweet, tri-colored skewers he knew she loved.
Their bond, forged in the heat of combat and cooled in these quiet, shared moments, bloomed into something deeper. A comfortable silence would often fall between them as they ate, a shared understanding that needed no words. He would catch her looking at him with an unreadable expression, a faint blush dusting her cheeks, and he would feel a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with chakra.
Soon, the month of grueling punishment and secret training was over. They stood together one afternoon, the four of them, looking at the familiar red walls of the Academy. They were stronger, faster, and more in sync than ever before. The next day was their special graduation exam. They were ready.
The morning of the exam dawned, not with a storm, but with a quiet, pearlescent light that promised a day of significance. Ryu found Hiruzen on the veranda, a cup of tea cradled in his hands, watching the world awaken. The air was still, and for a moment, they shared a comfortable silence, master and student, old man and young boy, enjoying the simple peace.
"Join me, Ryu-kun," Hiruzen said, his voice a gentle rumble that was part of the morning's tranquility. He poured a cup for Ryu, the fragrant steam mingling with the cool air.
They sat for a time before Hiruzen spoke again, his gaze distant, lost in the mists of memory. "This morning reminds me of my own training days. Lord First, Hashirama-sama, was like the sun itself—a force of nature, his power overwhelming but his warmth and laughter all-encompassing. Lord Second, Tobirama-sama, was the opposite—sharp and unforgiving as a blade of ice, his lessons precise, demanding, and absolute. They forged me into what I am."
He turned his gaze from the horizon to Ryu, and a soft, melancholic smile touched his lips. "When I look at you, at the fire in your eyes and the impossible weight you seem to carry on your small shoulders, it is like looking back in time at myself. It is a feeling I had thought lost to me long ago." His smile wavered for a second. "I tried to teach my own son, Asuma, but we were… different. He has his own path to walk, serving the Daimyo at the Fire Temple."
Ryu's mind flickered. The name Asuma, the Fire Temple… fragments of a half-forgotten dream, a life lived before this one, surfaced. The memories of the show were getting fuzzy now, like an old photograph left out in the sun, but he remembered a strained relationship, a tragic ending, and a reconciliation that came too late. The thought sent a pang of sadness through him, not for himself, but for the kind old man sitting beside him.
"I am grateful to you, Ryu-kun," Hiruzen continued, his voice pulling Ryu back to the present. "You have reminded this old man what it feels like to be young and hungry for the future." He reached over and gently ruffled Ryu's hair. "Now, go. I have no doubt you will graduate today and take your first true step on your path. Show them the strength of your will."
"I will, Sensei," Ryu said, his voice filled with determination.
"And Ryu," Hiruzen added, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "When you pass, I have a graduation present for you."
Ryu's ears perked up, his serious expression instantly replaced by childish excitement. "A present? What is it? Is it a new jutsu? A weapon?"
Hiruzen chuckled, a deep and hearty sound. "Patience. You will have to wait and see."
Ryu carried the warmth of that conversation with him as he stood before the familiar gates of the Inuzuka compound, the familiar scent of dogs and damp earth in the air. He was recollecting the memories of his talk with Hiruzen, a smile playing on his lips, when Hana bounded out, her ninken puppies yapping at her heels. She was a whirlwind of nervous energy, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Are you ready for this?" she asked, her voice a little too loud, betraying her nerves. "I'm not nervous! Not even a little! My heart is totally not about to pound out of my chest!"
Ryu laughed. "I'm ready. And you'll do great, Hana. Just don't punch the proctor."
"No promises," she grinned, and they fell into step, their easy chatter a comfortable buffer against the tension of the day.
At the Academy gates, Itachi and Izumi were waiting for them. Itachi stood with his usual calm, a pillar of composure, while Izumi had a mischievous sparkle in her dark eyes. She watched them approach, a sly little smile forming on her lips.
"Well, look who decided to show up," she said, her tone dripping with playful accusation. "We were starting to wonder if you two got lost. Maybe you took a detour through the park for a… private strategy session?"
The effect was instantaneous and explosive.
Hana's face went from its usual tan to a brilliant, furious shade of crimson. "Wha-! We did not! I would never—! He and I were just—!" she sputtered, her words tumbling over each other in a flustered, incoherent mess.
Ryu felt a matching wave of heat climb up his own neck. He tried to play it off, to summon an aura of cool detachment, but it was a losing battle. "We were just… coordinating our plans for the taijutsu portion," he said, the excuse sounding lame even to his own ears.
Itachi, who had been watching the exchange with a neutral expression, broke. A rare, razor-thin smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as his eyes met Ryu's. It was a silent, perfect acknowledgment of his friend's utter failure to be cool.
That was all Izumi needed. She burst into a bright, cheerful laugh. "'Coordinating plans'! Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
That was the last straw for Hana. With a mock-feral growl, she lunged. "Oh, that's it, Izumi! Let me show you some 'strategy'!"
Izumi shrieked with laughter and took off, Hana hot on her heels, the two of them weaving through the crowd of other nervous students. Ryu and Itachi watched them go, the last of the tension draining away.
"She is going to murder her," Ryu said with a sigh.
"Izumi is faster than she looks," Itachi replied, his smirk softening into a genuine smile.
The tension of the impending exam was, for a moment, forgotten, replaced by the easy warmth of friendship. Eventually, a panting Hana returned, dragging an equally breathless but still-giggling Izumi with her. Their goofing around was done. They shared one last look—a silent promise to give it their all—and together, the four of them walked through the Academy doors to face their future.