Sayuri's first target was Satoru; she closed the distance in three strides, her hand snaking toward his throat. He threw himself backwards, rolling across the grass, and heard the whish of her palm passing through the air where his neck had been.
'Cast,' he told himself. 'Not cancel. Cast.'
He reached for the ripple, tried to shape it into something useful; a footstep sound behind her, a flicker of motion in her peripheral vision. The ripple spread, weak and unstable, and for a fraction of a second, Sayuri's head twitched.
Ren capitalised. He launched a low kick at her knee; she blocked, but the block was half a beat late. Mariko came in from the side, her good fist swinging toward Sayuri's ribs.
Sayuri pivoted, caught Mariko's wrist, and pulled. Mariko stumbled, crashing into Ren; they went down in a tangle of limbs. Satoru tried to cast another ripple; this time, the chakra collapsed inward, and the Sharingan flared reflexively. The world sharpened; he saw Sayuri's chakra network, saw the tension in her muscles, saw the exact trajectory of her next strike.
'Too slow,' he realised. 'Even with the Sharingan, I am too slow.'
Sayuri's hand closed around his collar. She pushed, and he hit the grass on his back, her kunai at his throat. The edge was cold against his skin.
"Good instinct," she said, her voice flat. "Poor follow-through. You created a distraction, but you did not coordinate with your team. The genjutsu was effective for less than a second; that is not enough time for them to capitalise unless you signal."
She removed the kunai and stepped back. "Again."
The spar ended three more times before Sayuri called a halt. Each time, Satoru managed to cast at least one ripple; each time, the ripple lasted less than a second, and the team failed to synchronize. By the final round, he was swaying with exhaustion, his Yin reserves scraped dry, his left eye throbbing beneath the bandage.
Mariko sat down beside him, her breath coming in short gasps. "Your chakra is a mess," she said, her good hand reaching for his wrist. She pressed two fingers to his pulse point, her brow furrowing. "Yin reserves are critically low. You've been pushing too hard."
"I had to." He pulled his wrist away, not roughly, but firmly. "The Echo—"
"The Echo can wait." Mariko's voice was sharp. "If you collapse your chakra network, you won't be able to use any technique. Including the Echo."
Sayuri walked over to them, her arms crossed. "Mariko is right. You have reached the limit for today. Rest. Recover. Tomorrow, we refine."
Satoru nodded. He did not argue. The lesson from the Isamu mission was still fresh; protect the team first, even at the cost of your technique. Pushing himself to collapse would not help anyone.
Ren flopped onto the grass beside them, staring at the sky. "So what's the plan? We can't coordinate if we don't know what he's doing. The genjutsu is too subtle; we don't see the opening until it's gone."
Mariko frowned. "Verbal signals? Hand signs?"
"Both fail under pressure," Satoru said. "In combat, you don't have time to say 'I'm about to cast.' By the time the words leave your mouth, the opening is closed."
Mariko was quiet for a moment. Then she said: "You're a Yamanaka."
Satoru blinked. "What?"
"You're a Yamanaka. Your clan specialises in mental transmission. Could you... send a signal directly? Not words, not hand signs, but something we could feel?"
The question hung in the air. Satoru's mind raced. The Mind Mirror was reflective; it could project memory, emotion, intent. But what if he projected something smaller; an abstract pulse, a ping, a sensation that carried no information except now?
He turned to Mariko. "Close your eyes."
She raised an eyebrow but obeyed. Satoru took a slow breath, found the spiral anchor, and instead of aiming a ripple at the dummy or at Sayuri, he aimed it at Mariko's tenketsu. He did not try to create an illusion; he did not try to project a memory. He simply pushed a single, minimal thread of Yin chakra toward her; a ripple no larger than a grain of sand, carrying nothing but the faintest impression of a bell chime.
Mariko's eyes snapped open. "I felt that," she said. "Not a sound. Not in my ears. But the idea of a sound. Like someone tapping my shoulder from inside my head."
Satoru's heart stopped. Then it surged.
'Maybe this can be another use of echo,' he thought. 'Not a projection of memory, but a projection of signal. Communication without words, without hand signs, without delay.'
Sayuri had gone very still. Her pale eyes were fixed on Satoru with an intensity that made his skin prickle. "Do it again," she said. "This time, aim at me."
He did. The ripple spread, weak but coherent, and Sayuri's head tilted. She did not smile; she did not nod. But something in her expression shifted.
"New," she said. "Very new. You have just created a technique that does not exist in any Yamanaka scroll I have seen." She paused. "But it is incomplete. Unstable. The range is short, the energy cost is high, and the signal is too vague for complex communication."
Satoru swallowed. "How long do I have?"
"Three months. Maybe four." Sayuri turned and walked toward the treeline. "Rest. Recover. Tomorrow, we drill the Echo until your chakra pathways scream."
She vanished into the forest, leaving Satoru alone with Mariko and Ren. The sun had set; the field was dim, the mist returning in cold, creeping tendrils.
Mariko stood up, brushing grass from her trousers. "Three months," she said. "That's not a lot of time."
Satoru rose as well, his legs unsteady, his head pounding. "It's enough."
"Is it?"
He looked at the wooden dummy, at the place where his first genjutsu shimmer had appeared, at the space where Sayuri had stood. "It has to be."
The apartment was dark when he returned. He lit the lamp, the flame flickering to life, and sat down at his desk. The error analysis scroll was still pinned to the wall; the theoretical framework hung beside it. He unrolled a fresh scroll and wrote:
Mind Mirror: Echo — First Successful Test
Function: Minimal Yin ripple carrying abstract signal ("bell chime"). Target: Mariko (conscious perception), then Sayuri (confirmed). Range: Approximately 5 meters. Energy cost: High relative to effect. Stability: Low; signal degrades rapidly. Need repetition and refinement.
Application: Team coordination under combat conditions. Non-verbal, non-visual, instantaneous. Requires further testing to determine maximum range, signal complexity, and resistance to interference.
He set the brush down and read the entry twice. The Echo was not a weapon; it was not an illusion; it was not a memory projection. It was something simpler and more profound; a bridge between minds, built on the foundation of the Mind Mirror and the ripple method.
'Three months,' he thought. 'Refine the Echo. Master the ripple. Integrate with the team. This is definitely not going to be easy, but when have things ever been easy?'
He looked across the room at the bonsai tree on the windowsill. The moonlight silvered its leaves; the spiral trunk was still, patient, enduring.
=====
Your Reviews, Comments and Powerstones about my work are welcome
If you can, then please support me on Patreon.
Link - www.patreon.com/P4lindrome
You Can read more chapters ahead on Patreon.
Latest Chapter: Chapter 152-If power were all that mattered, every Jinchūriki would become a Kage.