Chapter 14: Forging the Storm
By the end of the day, even Naruto, whose stamina far outstripped his teammates, was slick with sweat. The mind-numbing, physical drudgery of a D-rank mission—scouring the riverbank for debris—had taken its toll.
Finally, the designated stretch of river was deemed acceptably clean. Naruto straightened, wiping his brow with the back of his arm. Sakura was wilting, her pink hair plastered to her temples. "I feel like I smell like garbage," she groaned. "I need a three-hour bath."
Sasuke stood a little apart, her usual pristine composure marred by smudges of mud and a fine sheen of perspiration, her expression one of profound disdain for the entire endeavor.
As dusk painted the sky in bruised purples, Kakashi materialized to dismiss them. With weary nods, Sakura and Sasuke trudged off toward home.
Naruto, however, didn't move. He sank onto the cool grass by the riverbank and closed his eyes. The physical fatigue was a dull ache, but it was the mental ledger that needed balancing. With a focused thought, he released the chakra sustaining the dozen Shadow Clones he'd had training in seclusion all day.
The return was instantaneous and brutal. A tidal wave of sensory feedback, fractured memories of repeated failure, and profound mental exhaustion crashed into his consciousness. He grunted, swaying where he sat, his hands pressing against his temples as he rode out the storm of information.
When the psychic noise settled, a slow, satisfied smile touched his lips. He sorted through the collective experience. Good. The water balloon stage is fully mastered. Every clone can burst it from the inside with controlled rotation. That was phase one.
Phase two—the denser, more resilient rubber ball—was well underway, with several clones reporting successful, internal ruptures. The progress, compressed into a single day by the multiplier effect, was staggering.
He took a few minutes to center himself, breathing deeply to clear the lingering fog of fatigue, then pushed to his feet and headed home. The path to the Rasengan was a grind, but he was chewing through it at an unnatural pace.
For the next several days, the pattern held: tedious D-ranks by day, relentless Rasengan training in every spare moment via clones. His personal funds, meager as they were from mission pay, were funneled entirely into purchasing training supplies—water balloons and rubber balls by the crate.
On a day when the mission involved chasing a runaway pet temple monkey (and failing, much to Kakashi's visible amusement), Kakashi held Naruto back as the girls left.
"A question, Naruto," Kakashi began, his lone eye sharp. "I noticed you buying large quantities of rubber balls. Training tools, you said. For what, exactly?"
"Just a personal exercise, Sensei," Naruto replied with an easy shrug, his smile in place. "It's not finished yet. I'll show you when it's ready." He deftly turned the inquiry aside. "Was there something else you needed?"
Kakashi studied him for a moment, recognizing the polite deflection. He let it go. The boy's secrets were his own, for now. "The other matter. The Wind Style specialist I mentioned. He's available. I can take you to him now."
Naruto's eyes lit with genuine enthusiasm. A formal teacher for his wind affinity was a gateway to real techniques, to completing the Rasengan's final form. "Thank you, Sensei. I'm ready."
"Don't thank me yet. The training will be his. And it won't be easy." Kakashi led the way from the training ground as twilight deepened.
They walked in silence to Konoha's bustling center street, the lanterns beginning to glow. Kakashi stopped before a modest, warmly lit tavern. With a glance at Naruto, he pushed the door open.
Inside, the air was thick with the smell of sake and grilled food. It was quiet, only a few patrons scattered at tables. Naruto's gaze swept the room and landed on a familiar figure slouched in a corner booth, a bottle and a glass before him, a cloud of cigarette smoke haloing his head.
Asuma Sarutobi.
Kakashi approached. "Yo, Asuma. Drinking alone? That's a dangerous habit."
Asuma looked up, his expression weary. "Kakashi. Didn't peg you for a tavern regular. What brings you?" His voice was a gravelly rumble.
"Can't a friend share a drink?" Kakashi slid into the seat opposite him, setting his new Icha Icha volume on the table. "You look troubled."
Asuma snorted, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Skip the small talk. What do you need?"
Kakashi's eye crinkled. "Straight to the point. This is my student, Uzumaki Naruto." He gestured for Naruto to step forward.
Naruto did, standing respectfully beside the table. So much for Kakashi doing the talking. He'd have to advocate for himself.
Asuma's eyes, sharp despite the alcohol, assessed him. "Uzumaki Naruto. I've heard the name." He took another sip of sake. "Kakashi's your teacher. Why come to me for ninjutsu?"
Naruto met his gaze directly. "Kakashi-sensei is a master of many things. But for Wind Release, you are Konoha's foremost specialist. I've begun exploring wind-nature transformation on my own." He held up a hand, and with a focused thought, a thin, razor-sharp breeze whirled around his fingertips for a second before dissipating. It was a tiny, precise demonstration of control. "I want to learn to wield it properly."
Asuma's eyebrows shot up. The casual display of elemental chakra shaping, unsupported by hand seals, from a genin… He stubbed out his cigarette, his professional interest thoroughly piqued. The boy's chakra felt sharp, clean, and vast. "Wind attribute, huh? Not many of us." A slow grin spread across his face, cutting through his earlier melancholy. "Alright. You've got my attention. Be at Training Ground 34 tomorrow morning. Don't be late."
Naruto bowed slightly. "Thank you, Asuma-sensei."
Asuma waved a hand, already turning back to Kakashi. "Alright, now that business is settled, Kakashi, you're drinking with me. I need to vent about Kurenai…"
Naruto took that as his cue. With a final nod to Kakashi, he slipped out of the tavern into the cool night air. The meeting had gone better than expected. Asuma was engaged.
Tomorrow would be the start of formal wind-style training. And tonight, his clones would push further into the rubber ball stage. The two paths of his power—the inherited technique of his 'father' and the elemental affinity of his chakra—were converging.
The next morning, Naruto excused himself from Team 7's D-rank duties (earning a curious look from Sasuke and a pout from Sakura) and made his way to Training Ground 34.
In the distance, he saw Asma, already present and looking more alert than he had the night before. Beside him, lounging with varying degrees of boredom, were his own genin team: Shikamaru Nara, Choji Akimachi, and Ino Yamanaka—Team 10.
Naruto raised a hand in greeting as he approached. A new chapter of training was beginning, and for the first time, he wouldn't be walking the path entirely alone in the shadows. He had a guide. The relentless engine of his progress was about to receive its proper fuel.