Twenty Akashi Soras, twenty different hand seal sequences.
Earth, Water, Fire, Wind, Lightning.
All five chakra natures mobilized, gathered, and compressed simultaneously.
The air across the entire training ground turned violent.
Beneath Yamato's mask, cold sweat already soaked his face.
Yamanaka Kaede's mind went blank from the mental backlash and the sheer spectacle before her.
This was war.
Not training.
Uchiha Itachi stood at the storm's center, his three-tomoe Sharingan spinning wildly—capturing every chakra flow, calculating every ninjutsu's trajectory and coverage.
No escape.
No blind spots.
The only solution: overwhelm with greater force and eliminate all casters before the attacks landed.
Or…
In the second before the apocalyptic Grand Chain Bullet erupted—
A white flash appeared without warning in the exact center of the field.
Not Body Flicker.
Pure speed.
Kakashi.
He didn't even glance at the shadow clones that had finished their seals.
He simply stood there—one hand still in his pocket, the other resting on Uchiha Itachi's shoulder.
"Enough."
The twenty Akashi Soras poised to unleash froze in unison.
Then—
Poof! Poof! Poof! Poof! Poof!
All shadow clones dispersed into white smoke at once.
The massive chakra capable of leveling the entire field vanished with them.
Only the real Sora remained—far away, on one knee.
The training ground was a wreck.
Craters, scorch marks, and wet mud everywhere.
The air reeked of steam and burnt earth.
Kakashi released Itachi's shoulder and surveyed the damage. His visible eye betrayed no emotion.
"Continue any longer, and it stops being training—it becomes life or death."
His words were for everyone.
"I've seen your strength."
Kakashi paced to the center, first looking at Sora—kneeling, hair drenched in sweat, utterly disheveled.
"Sora, not bad."
"Everyone calls me Copy Ninja Kakashi—said to have replicated nearly a thousand ninjutsu."
He changed tack, making everyone's hearts skip.
"I've realized you're the real ninjutsu library."
It was praise.
Sora lifted his head, flashing an exhausted yet goofy grin.
"Hehe… just good luck and good memory…"
His answer mirrored what he'd said on the border battlefield.
Kakashi didn't pursue it.
He turned to Itachi, who still stood perfectly straight on the other side.
Itachi's Anbu uniform was slightly torn, but his posture remained flawless.
The Sharingan was deactivated—back to those calm, depthless black eyes.
"Itachi's strength is also exceptional."
Kakashi's tone grew solemn.
"Body Flicker variants, taijutsu, genjutsu—timing grasped to perfection."
"A perfect ninja."
High praise indeed.
Coming from Kakashi, it carried extraordinary weight.
Finally, his eye swept over Yamato and Kaede—who had nearly become background.
"Yamato, Kaede—keep pushing."
Simple encouragement, yet it highlighted the gap between them and the other two.
Yamato nodded silently.
Kaede lowered her head—no one knew what she was thinking.
"Alright, training ends here."
Kakashi waved dismissively and pulled out his orange book again.
"Free time."
"Dismissed."
With the order, Yamato flickered away.
He needed solitude to process the shock of today's session.
Kaede hesitated, approached Sora, opened her mouth—but seeing his tired yet radiant smile, she only muttered "you idiot" under her breath and left.
Only three remained on the field.
Kakashi leaning against the tree, reading.
Itachi standing motionless, lost in thought.
Sora didn't leave immediately or approach Kakashi.
He walked straight toward Uchiha Itachi.
Itachi sensed the approach and turned—those black eyes fixing quietly on him.
Sora stopped before him.
The exhausted look rapidly faded, replaced by his trademark energetic, dazzling smile.
"Itachi-kun!"
He extended his right hand.
A standard, friendly handshake.
Itachi didn't move.
He simply looked at Sora—at that blindingly bright smile, at the outstretched hand.
"I acknowledge you."
Sora spoke—clear, forceful, utterly sincere.
"You're very strong."
"Having you as a teammate puts me at ease—I can entrust my back to you."
These weren't words a typical thirteen-year-old would say.
Not junior-to-senior admiration, nor peer politeness.
It was recognition between equals.
A declaration from one strong individual to another.
Kakashi's page-turning paused.
The training ground air seemed to freeze once more.
Itachi's face showed no extra ripple.
He looked at Sora's hand extended in midair—silent for three full seconds.
Then he extended his own.
Two youthful hands clasped.
Not light, not heavy.
"Your ninjutsu is… strange."
Itachi spoke—the first thing he'd said to Sora voluntarily today.
Flat, merely stating a fact.
"Hahaha, just cheap tricks that don't amount to much!" Sora laughed it off, scratching his fluffy flaxen hair. "Nothing compared to a real genius like you, Itachi-kun!"
He released the hand as he spoke.
The handshake couldn't last too long.
Overdoing it would ruin the effect.
"Please take care of me from now on, Raven-senpai!"
"Gotta go—I'm starving! Ramen time!"
With that, he turned, waving without looking back as he headed for the exit.
His retreating figure brimmed with youthful vitality and carefree ease.
Itachi remained, staring at the hand that had just clasped Sora's—silent for a long while.
Kakashi closed his book and stepped from behind the tree.
"What do you think?"
"Very strong," Itachi gave the same evaluation as before, then added, "And very dangerous."
"Oh?" Kakashi's eye narrowed.
"He will become Konoha's blade."
"Come on, I'm hungry too. My treat—dango."
"No need."
Itachi refused and flickered away.
Only Kakashi remained.
He looked at the ravaged field and sighed helplessly.
"This is getting… more and more troublesome."
Uchiha Itachi's figure vanished from the training ground.
He didn't go home.
He wandered Konoha's streets.
Wind ruffled his black hair, unable to dispel the lingering heat from battle.
That boy.
Akashi Sora.
Not five nature releases.
Five chakra natures danced in his palms.
Earth's weight, Water's flow, Fire's fury, Wind's edge, Lightning's speed.
Every ninjutsu perfectly timed.
Every transition seamless.
It wasn't combat.
It was a symphony of destruction he composed.
And he stood on the conductor's podium with a sunny smile.
From initial feigned weakness to luring Yamato into Wood Release.
From charging madly into flames to the certain-kill hidden in steam.
To the final Five Elements Release: Grand Chain Bullet that could annihilate everything.
Every step followed his script.
Himself, Yamato, even Kaede—mere actors in his play.
Even Captain Kakashi's intervention timing was likely anticipated.
This person…
For the first time, Itachi felt "danger" toward a peer.
Not from strength.
From the unknown.
Uchiha clan grounds.
Distinct from the rest of Konoha.
The air carried an aura called "pride."
As Itachi passed, clansmen bowed in reverence.
He nodded in return, footsteps unbroken.
He pushed open the door.
"Big brother!"
A small figure rushed into his arms like a gust.
Sasuke.
The Anbu chill on Itachi melted instantly.
He lifted his little brother, letting him nuzzle freely.
"Why so late today? I waited forever!" Sasuke pouted, dissatisfied.
"Mm, something came up."
"Mission? Did you catch really bad guys?" Sasuke's eyes sparkled.
"Training."
"Mom! Big brother's back!" Sasuke yelled toward the kitchen.
Uchiha Mikoto emerged with tea, gazing warmly at her sons.
"Itachi, welcome home. First day in Anbu—getting used to it?"
"It's fine." Itachi set Sasuke down and accepted the tea.
"No mission scheduled today," he added.
"Then why so late?" Mikoto asked curiously—she knew her elder son disliked lingering outside.
Itachi sipped his tea, pausing.
"The captain organized squad training."
He seemed to search for words.
"I met a… very impressive teammate."
"Oh?" Mikoto was surprised.
For her son—who praised almost no one—to call a peer "impressive" was rare in all Konoha.
"About my age."
"But…"
Itachi paused, seeking the perfect description.
"He masters all five nature transformations."
Mikoto's hand holding the tea tray froze midair.
Mastery of all five.
Those words carried immense weight.
"Every nature at his fingertips—tremendous power, flawless transitions."
"Like…"
Itachi looked up at his mother.
"Like the Third Hokage in his youth."
Mikoto's face registered shock!
The young Third Hokage.
The "Professor of Ninjutsu" who mastered thousands of techniques—at his peak, called the strongest Hokage.
A thirteen-year-old boy earned that comparison?
From her son who never exaggerated?
"Big brother, is the Third Hokage really strong?" Sasuke asked curiously, not grasping the weight.
"Yes, very strong." Itachi patted Sasuke's head.
"What's that teammate's name?" Mikoto finally recovered.
"Akashi Sora."
Ichiraku Ramen.
Steam rising.
Sora buried his face in a massive bowl of chashu ramen, slurping contentedly.
"Phew… I'm alive again!"
He drained the last of the broth, slumped back in his chair, rubbing his full belly.
Utterly satisfied—like any ordinary boy healed by good food.
But inside his consciousness raged a high-speed data storm.
[Recording complete! Obtained disc: Uchiha Itachi - Sharingan]
[Recording complete! Obtained disc: Uchiha-Style · Shurikenjutsu]
[Recording complete! Obtained disc: Genjutsu: Shackling Stakes Technique]
[Recording complete! Obtained disc: Wood Release: Wood Locking Wall]
…
In the disc library, several discs glowing crimson and deep green stood out.
Jackpot.
This training session was worth a fortune.
Especially the Sharingan combat data.
It taught Sora countless Sharingan techniques.
A detailed "user manual."
Showing how to observe, predict, and convert insight into combat power once activated.
Uchiha Itachi was truly a generous "teacher."
And Kakashi.
His final intervention seemed to stop the fight.
But it was protection.
Protecting Itachi.
And protecting him.
A Five Elements Release: Grand Chain Bullet of that scale—if truly unleashed—would turn training into an incident.
"Boss, another bowl!"
"Coming right up!"
Sora dove back into battle with food.
Filling the stomach was a ninja's top priority.
After ramen, night had fully fallen.
Sora strolled homeward, humming an off-key tune.
Night deepened; street lamps lit one by one, outlining Konoha's peaceful silhouette.
Hands in pockets, he ambled along.
Passing a familiar corner, the neighbor's orange tabby lounged on the wall, yawning lazily.
"Yo, Little Orange—not patrolling your territory tonight?"
He greeted casually, pulling a small packet of cat food he'd bought earlier and pouring it at the wall's base.
The cat leaped down gracefully, sniffed primly, then nibbled delicately.
A passing villager auntie saw and teased with a smile, "Sora, feeding the cat again? Such a kind boy."
"Hehe, good evening, Aunt Iwata! He's cute, that's all!" Sora flashed his dazzling smile—amber eyes sparkling under the lights.
After bidding farewell to auntie and cat, he turned into his apartment building.
Old wooden stairs creaked underfoot.
Back in his small single-room apartment, he casually shut the door.
Click.
The room was tidy—few belongings, everything neatly placed.
He didn't turn on the light.
In darkness, he stood motionless for a full minute—perception spreading like a spiderweb, scanning every corner.
No surveillance.
No bugs.
Safe.
Confirmed, he immediately formed seals.
Poof.
An identical shadow clone appeared.
The clone yawned exaggeratedly, rubbed its eyes, and staggered to the bed—collapsing heavily.
"Man, I'm beat… That Itachi guy's a monster…"
The clone muttered, rolled over, and soon breathed evenly—perfectly playing an exhausted boy post-extreme training.
The real Sora vanished the instant the clone appeared.
[Replicate and play: Flying Thunder God Technique]
Next moment—salty sea wind hit his face.
He stood on the desolate island deep in the ocean.
Watch me roll them all.