"Almighty above... do you take pleasure in sending monsters my way? A triple elemental affinity?!" Jiraiya's voice cracked with a mixture of awe and genuine exasperation.
"Why the drama, Jiraiya-san? It's simply a biological fact. A rare one, certainly, but just a variable in the equation," Shorai said, rubbing the back of his head. A small, self-deprecating smile touched his lips. "The only thing currently throttling my progress is my own pathetic chakra reserves. I have the blueprints, but lack the fuel."
Jiraiya's eye twitched. He stared at the boy as if trying to discern whether Shorai was mocking the laws of nature or simply oblivious to them.
"I can only blame myself for not asking sooner..." Shorai mumbled to himself, his gaze drifting. "I still have much to do if I am to be compared to—or perhaps one day surpass—the Second Hokage."
"The Second?" Jiraiya caught the shift in Shorai's tone. "Is he your idol?"
Shorai hesitated, caught off guard. He chose his words with precision, omitting the meta-knowledge of a past life while retaining the sincerity of his respect. "That man... his influence on my perspective is profound. He was a revolutionary, a man who saw chakra not just as a weapon, but as a field of study. His scientific research advanced ninjutsu by leaps and bounds. No one else has touched that many fields of application, and he had the monstrous reserves of a Senju to make every theoretical whim a reality."
"Hmph. He was a giant, that's true," Jiraiya admitted, huffing as he crossed his arms. "But even Lord Second didn't attempt to engineer his own bloodline traits from scratch! And let's be clear..." The Sannin stepped forward, pointing a finger at Shorai's chest. "He didn't accomplish half of those feats at your age. That level of precocity is enough to make any shinobi envious, Shorai. It's dangerous."
Shorai smiled helplessly. "Grandeur is a hollow goal if it isn't backed by results. I cannot waste time talking when there is work to be done."
"Right. And what is this 'work' exactly?"
"While I continue to focus on expanding my reserves, I must master Water transformation. I need it to create another—" Shorai cut himself off, but the slip was already out.
Jiraiya's eyes widened to saucers. "W-what was that? Say that again? You intend to develop another Kekkei Genkai? Do you have any idea how heavy that concentration is? Most shinobi spend a lifetime mastering a single element, but you're talking about artificial fusion? You're serious, aren't you?"
"I should have kept that to myself," Shorai sighed, his voice dropping an octave.
"Oh, don't you dare hold back now! Spill it, kid. Be honest with Master Jiraiya. What kind of madness are you brewing?"
The ensuing ten minutes were filled with wild facial expressions from the Sannin. Finally, Jiraiya ran a hand through his shock of white hair, his face turning grim.
"Three... you speak of three complex elemental fusions," the Sannin whispered in disbelief. "Swift Release is already a pinnacle achievement. Most would stop there and be legends. But you speak of Ice and Storm? Without a clan, without a scroll, just... through theory? How do you even conceive of this?"
"It's a matter of observation," Shorai said, his eyes narrowing. "If you pay attention to the fundamental behavior of the elements—"
"Pay attention, my ass!" Jiraiya snapped, his frown deepening. "This isn't shaping a Rasengan, Shorai. This is playing with the very fabric of your chakra flaw. It's a forbidden route. One mistake and your own chakra will crystallize your heart or cook your nerves from the inside out. You were lucky with Swift Release—you were born with those affinities dominant. But Ice? That belongs to the Yuki of the Mist. Storm? That's the pride of the Cloud. You're trying to build a house without the foundation."
Jiraiya shook his head vehemently. "Without the genetic trigger, your 'Ice' will be nothing but a chill, and your 'Storm' will be a weak spark. You are chasing shadows, Shorai. Stick to Swift Release. Don't waste your genius on imitations."
"I am aware of the nuances, Jiraiya-san. I don't intend to do this blindly. I have... methods. Shadow clones, for one."
"Shadow clones?" Jiraiya's expression shifted from anger to sudden, sharp curiosity. Then, his eyes darkened. "Shorai. Tell me you aren't using them for the cumulative experience. Your disregard for your own mental limits is terrifying. You're going to be a butterfly that burns its wings before it even clears the cocoon. That much mental feedback... it cracks the mind."
"It's not my first time," Shorai replied steadily. "I know the threshold. Swift Release was the child of that pain. I'm not gripping onto legends; I'm gripping onto the physics of what I know to be possible."
"Step at a time, kid. Step at a time," Jiraiya warned, his voice sounding more like a worried father than a teacher. He looked away, his gaze landing on the distant, orange-clad figure of Naruto. "In some ways... you remind me of him. Not Naruto. The other one."
"Orochimaru?" Shorai said the name without flinching.
Jiraiya's aura flared for a split second. "Did he approach you? Did he try to entice you with his 'truth'?"
"I met him," Shorai revealed. "I was pinned by his killing intent while he spoke to Anko. He didn't offer me power. He simply said I was... interesting."
"Interesting," Jiraiya spat the word like a curse.
"Let me reassure you, Jiraiya-san," Shorai said, his voice cold and analytical. "I have no interest in being a pawn. I have my own path. Whatever dark research he has sunken into... it has robbed him of his humanity. He looks like a snake in a human skin. That is a failure of philosophy, not a success of power."
Jiraiya's expression softened, though the shadow of concern remained. "I suppose only time will tell."
"Jiraiya-san," Shorai pivoted, "your title. Sage. You've been to Mt. Myoboku. What does it truly mean to be a Hermit?"
Jiraiya's smugness returned instantly. "It means I am versed in Senjutsu—Sage Arts. The apex of shinobi ability."
"Dangerous?" Shorai asked, playing the part of the curious student.
"Fatally so. It requires 'Natural Energy'—a balance so perfect it would make your head spin. And the buy-in price? Massive chakra reserves. Without them, the natural energy consumes you. You turn to stone."
"A minimum requirement?"
"Elite Jonin level," Jiraiya said firmly. "Clan-born, specifically. You aren't blessed in that department yet, kid. You're a year or two away from even thinking about it."
"Good to know," Shorai sighed. "At least elemental fusion isn't locked behind a reserve wall. It's just a matter of... states of matter."
"States of what?"
"A theory," Shorai corrected himself quickly. "The idea that you can achieve a new form by heating water into pressurized steam and using lightning to ionize—to speed the flow beyond its natural limit."
"You're playing with fire without using a Fire Release," Jiraiya mused, looking at his palm as he formed a Rasengan. "Perhaps this will help. The Rasengan is the apex of shape transformation. If you can contain your 'gas' within this shell, you might avoid blowing yourself up. But even the Fourth couldn't add an element to this. Neither could I. It's an S-rank task just to add one."
"Training to form a habit," Shorai countered. "A habit makes focus automatic. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe Naruto needs your assistance. I prefer a silent environment for this stage."
Jiraiya laughed, a boisterous sound that lacked his usual weight. "Just don't overdo it. I'll book the hotel. Good luck, little monster."
Once the Sannin was gone, two puffs of smoke heralded the arrival of the clones.
The Stoic clone adjusted his gear, his eyes cold and distant. "I will handle the Water transformation. The stillness of the flow is paramount."
"Right. We will focus on the Rasengan's core rotation," the Original said, nodding to the Whimsical clone.
Shorai withdrew several chakra pills from his pouch, dividing them between himself and the clones before placing barrier tags around the clearing.
Then he drew a slow breath and reached inward, toward the Reality Stone. He did not call upon its world-altering might. He only pressed the smallest portion of his will against the clearing.
The earth sank. A shallow basin formed where the ground had been, filling with clear, motionless water—a pond for the Stoic Clone to work with.
As the water settled, Shorai's gaze drifted to the bracelet fixed against his handguard.
'An anchor,' he thought, a faint frown appearing as he registered the familiar pull of his attention and marked it in his mind. 'A tether to a reality I am beginning to want to keep.'
"Soul space?" the Whimsical clone asked.
"Soul space," Shorai confirmed.
They vanished into the dark scape of his mind, where hours felt like seconds and every failure was a lesson without a physical cost. When they finally opened their eyes in the real world, the sun was beginning its descent.
Shorai held out his palm. A swirl of pale-blue chakra formed above it—a violent vortex restrained within a delicate spherical shell. He refined the rotation, compressing the air caught within it until friction made the space around his palm tremble. For an instant, he considered forcing the current further—driving it past its natural limit.
"Hey, don't gamble with your health, Original," the Whimsical Clone chirped as he struggled with his own attempt. "Naruto's version works from the outside—a shell of wind around the Rasengan. What you're doing is even more dangerous. You're trying to alter the core itself."
"I suppose part of me wants to force it," Shorai admitted. "To skip the steps and make thought into reality." He sighed, sweat beading along his forehead.
By 7:00 PM, the clones were panting. The Stoic clone walked over, his clothes damp but his expression unreadable.
"Progress?" the Original asked.
"Water Release is stable," the Stoic Clone reported. "The transformation holds now. But Ice is a dream for another day. Your lightning habits remain unchanged—the static within your chakra interferes with the stillness required for freezing."
He paused. Then a rare, cold smile appeared on his face.
"Storm, however, is a high probability. The chakra already wants to move in that direction. Wind drives it. Water gives it a path. Lightning gives it a bite."
His gaze shifted toward the pond.
"And Hidden Mist? Combined with your genjutsu, it could turn a battlefield into a graveyard without anyone ever seeing the blade. Blind their eyes. Twist their senses. Let them lose the direction of your movement while you keep yours."
"The moisture would carry the current," Shorai murmured.
"Exactly," the Stoic Clone replied. "A field of fog becomes a field of nerves."
'A dense cloud… held in place, compressed through chakra control. A localized barrier of pressure,' Shorai mused.
"Chakra, pal," the Stoic Clone reminded him, glancing at Shorai's trembling hands. "Do not forget how pathetic your tank is. For now, it is only a pleasant dream."
With a puff, the clones dispersed. The rush of memory and fatigue hit Shorai like a physical blow. He stood alone in the darkening woods, the cooling air a reminder of Jiraiya's 'butterfly' metaphor.
"Shorai! Come on! Pervy Sage got the room!" Naruto's voice echoed through the trees.
"Coming!"
Shorai took one last look at the pond he had created—a small, artificial piece of a world he could warp on a whim. Yet it was temporary. It could vanish in the next instant like a mirage, leaving no proof that it had ever existed.
"Butterfly…" he thought. "Perhaps. But I am more like a mirage in this reality."