"This is a basic skill for the Hyūga clan—Byakugan and Gentle Fist," Hinata said softly, guiding Naruto's hand as she demonstrated the stance. Her voice was gentle but focused; every syllable carried the patience of someone who'd practiced the same small movements a thousand times.
"Naruto-kun," she added, a faint, encouraging smile tugging at her lips, "if there's anything you don't understand, ask me. I'll help—really, I'll do my best."
Naruto felt his chest flip. Hinata's presence, the way she watched him study the flow of chakra and the placement of his fingers, made his heart do something clumsy and warm. He cleared his throat and grinned, suddenly aware of how loud his own breathing sounded.
"Thanks, Hinata. You're really—really kind."
Hinata's cheeks flushed as she lowered her eyes. "I-it's nothing…" she murmured. Her face showed the quiet joy of someone who had spent the whole day with a person she cared for, helping him in a way she could.
They had been at Naruto's house together all day. Hinata had stayed longer than she ever had with him before—forgotten lunch, lingered over small corrections, and coached him through countless repetitions. The result was obvious: Naruto's control over Wind Release chakra had improved in ways that surprised even him.
"Thank you so much, Hinata!" he said after another successful attempt. "I feel like I understand a lot more now."
Hinata glanced instinctively at the moon outside the window. Her eyes widened. "Is it night already?" she whispered, a small gasp escaping.
"Oh no—I stayed too long. My father will scold me if I'm late," she fretted, panic briefly eclipsing her composure.
"Naruto-kun, I… I have to go!" she blurted, then squeaked and fled suddenly, embarrassed at her own confession.
"Naruto…" he started, but she was already racing down the path under the silver light. He went to the window and watched her dash away, the hem of her skirt fluttering, and called after her with a bright, grateful voice, "Thank you, Hinata!"
She turned, looked back over her shoulder, smiled timidly, and with a blush and a little wave she bounded off into the night. Naruto shut the window with both hands, feeling a silly warmth blooming in his chest. He frowned at himself when it dawned on him: he hadn't even bought Hinata dinner. He had spent the entire training session on an empty stomach.
"Next time," he promised aloud, smacking his forehead. "I'll have to thank her properly."
Dinner finished quickly—a couple of instant meals, a hurried mouthful of soup—and Naruto scampered downstairs to resume training. He had learned a lot today, but the line between good and perfect was still far. Hinata's lessons had tightened his control over Wind Release: not just raw force now, but precision. Wind Release could tear through things when used with brute strength, but manipulating it into a fine, concentrated flow demanded a craftsman's touch.
Naruto grinned as he set up a target on the training wall. He drew a bull's-eye and began again.
At first his throws were messy. The shuriken spun raggedly and clattered against the wood. But with each repetition, the Wind Release wrapped around the shuriken more obediently, inflating speed and stabilizing flight. He counted as they landed.
"Seven rings!" he muttered after a particularly clean throw.
"Eight!" The number climbed—his rhythm steadying. The feeling was addictive: one more throw, one more spin, inching closer to a goal that glowed like a small star in his mind. The Wind Release became an extension of his arm, the chakra like silk corseting the blades.
By midnight he was exhausted but ecstatic. For the first time, he managed to plunge a shuriken clean through the ten-ring bull's eye. He didn't stop there; he moved on to multiple shuriken. Two became three, three became four. He worked until his arms trembled and his fingers cramped. The system pinged—a polite reminder that it was time to sleep.
He collapsed into bed like a sack of leaves and sank into dreamless sleep.
In his dream, Naruto fought alongside Sasuke and Neji again. He felt the gale-palm technique surge through him, the Wind Release in his hands roaring like a caught storm. Even in sleep his subconscious marked progress—the chances of victory rising slow and steady.
---
Morning arrived and with it Asuma's watchful eyes. The results of Naruto's five days of grueling practice were impossible to ignore. Asuma stood in the training yard, arms folded, a dry smile playing across his stubbled face.
"Six shuriken," he said, nodding appreciatively. "You've managed to keep six shuriken spinning with Wind Release: Storm Palm. The power on those—if one of those hit a live opponent's heart, it would be fatal."
Naruto puffed up with pride, trying not to let the praise make him dizzy. The Storm Palm amplified shuriken speed and penetration like nothing else he'd learned. A shuriken wrapped in Wind Release flew almost invisible—fast as lightning and hard as a spear. It could slice a hole through most defenses in an instant, and it punished even the steadiest of guards.
Asuma rubbed his chin and sighed. "There's nothing more basic I can teach you about this technique. From here on, you need to increase the number of shuriken you control and refine their power. That improvement is yours to train. It doesn't require my guidance."
Naruto blinked—pride and disappointment warred across his face.
"Asuma-sensei…" he began.
The older shinobi cracked a small, rueful grin. "However," he said, "because you've shown extraordinary progress, once you finish mastering Storm Palm, I'll teach you one of my personal Wind Release techniques."
The grin on Naruto's face could've split his head. "Really?!"
"As long as you keep at it. I think one of my Wind Release body techniques will suit you."
"Awesome!" Naruto cheered. He redoubled his determination, training with renewed gasoline in his veins. Three more days of sweat and repetition later, on the eighth day, the system lit up to confirm what Asuma could already see: Naruto had mastered Wind Release: Storm Palm.
The final test was brutal—and public. Asuma arranged a stone pillar, a massive rock that had endured years of strikes. Naruto wrapped Wind Release around twelve shuriken—twelve!—and launched them in a single, flowing motion. The shuriken struck with storm-laden force: the pillar shuddered, cracks splintered the surface, and chunks broke free in a violent cascade.
Asuma whistled low. He had seen competent shinobi; he had seen the best. Naruto's performance placed him closer to the latter than either of them liked to admit.
"Good work, Naruto," Asuma said, eyes warm. "You've reached a level where you can use Wind Release as a body technique. I call this… Wind Release: Whirlwind Fist. It channels Wind Release chakra around a strike—your fist, a chakra blade—to produce devastating destructive power."
Naruto's cheeks flushed a little with pride and nerves. "You'll teach me? Right now?"
Asuma's smile deepened. "Watch carefully."
He formed hand seals and infused chakra into a kunai. The wind swirled, bright and keen. Asuma concentrated the Wind Release into his fist, sealing the chakra around it and then releasing it like a coiled spring. The resulting strike punched clean through a slab of stone the size of a small boulder. The force sent a shockwave across the yard and threw up a shower of debris.
Naruto's mouth dropped open. The technique's power was… enormous.
"Try it," Asuma said. "You can do it with the Gale Palm experience you've earned."
Naruto went to work, and to his surprise the basic mechanics fell readily into place. He gathered the Wind Release around his right fist, held it in perfect control, and then unleashed. The first strike didn't shatter the boulder like Asuma's had, but it cracked and sent fragments flying with brutal force.
"Whoa," Naruto breathed, staring at his fist in amazement. "Did I… get stronger that fast?"
Asuma laughed softly. "You did. But don't get cocky. Mastery demands patience. You've taken enormous strides for your age. The technique will suit you well. You have the raw fire and the heart to use it."
Naruto felt like his chest might burst with pride. He worked through dozens of repetitions, gradually increasing the wind density and learning to meld the chakra more completely into his strikes. The Wind Release around his fist hummed like a held note, and each impact felt cleaner, deeper. By noon, even Asuma was calling out minor corrections in cadence or wrist angle—small details that made a huge difference.
Later, as the sun declined and the training session wound down, Naruto sat on the practice field and reflected. Hinata's patient instruction had allowed this leap. Asuma's measured guidance had polished it into something dangerous and fine-tuned. He was still nowhere near perfect—never would be—but the path ahead was suddenly clearer.
He thought of Hinata's smile, of how she hid her embarrassment beneath a soft blush. He made another silent promise to himself to repay her kindness—maybe not just with dinner, but with victories she could be proud of.
Asuma clapped him on the shoulder. "Rest up, Naruto. Tomorrow we spar. I want to see how well you can use Wind Release: Whirlwind Fist in motion."
Naruto stretched his arms, grinning. "I'll be ready. I'll keep getting better."
As he trudged home beneath the early stars, he hummed an uncertain tune. Somewhere between practice and promise, the boy who had always been loud and undisciplined felt something firmer settling into him—an earnest resolve to be the kind of shinobi worth watching.
And somewhere, someone watched Hinata from afar and thought about how the smallest acts—teaching, caring, staying for an extra hour—could make a storm within a person settle into something like strength.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)