The sound of rippling water filled the quiet of early morning. Ren stood barefoot on the lake's surface, blindfolded. His breathing was steady, synchronized with the rhythm of the water beneath him. The tanto moved with precision as he performed a series of kata, each strike fluid and natural. The air was still, interrupted only by the faint rustle of Ganryū's movements.
A shuriken whistled through the air, aimed at Ren's shoulder. Without breaking his flow, Ren shifted aside, deflecting the projectile with a quick flick of his tanto. Another followed, then another. Ren's movements grew sharper, his senses attuned to every vibration in the humid air.
Ganryū observed from the lake's edge, arms crossed, a slight furrow on his brow. He's progressing faster than I expected, he thought, though his face remained impassive. He grabbed another handful of shuriken and threw them in rapid succession. Ren blocked two and narrowly dodged the third, maintaining his balance on the water.
"Sloppy," Ganryū said sharply. "You're still hesitating between movements. If this were real, you'd already be dead."
Ren didn't respond. He adjusted his stance and continued the kata, his mind focused, his body fluid. I won't stop, he thought, his determination unyielding despite the constant criticism.
Ganryū sighed internally. This boy doesn't break easily. Perhaps he does have potential.
Another attack came, this time with Ganryū moving across the water with his sword drawn. The clash was swift, Ren's tanto meeting the jonin's blade in a burst of sparks. Ren stumbled slightly but recovered, managing to parry the follow-up strike. He gritted his teeth, determined to keep up with the relentless pace.
Four Months Earlier
The training had been grueling. At the academy, the students began practicing water-walking, a skill that quickly separated the diligent from the distracted. Ren's aptitude was evident from the start, though he deliberately stumbled once or twice to blend in with the others. Only Yukiko's sharp gaze seemed to catch the faint smile he couldn't suppress when he effortlessly completed the task.
"You've been practicing on your own, haven't you?" she whispered during a break.
Ren shrugged. "Maybe a little."
In Tatsumi's workshop, Ren's progress in fuinjutsu was equally remarkable. He mastered the Concealment Seal, applying it with precision to tools, scrolls, and even areas of his lab.
"Barrier seals are next," Tatsumi had said, handing him a scroll covered in intricate diagrams. "You're close, but remember, precision matters more than speed."
Ren spent hours perfecting barriers, creating protective domes and walls that could withstand moderate attacks. Though not yet flawless, the progress was undeniable.
His nights were filled with solitary training. By the end of the third month, he had mastered the Water Clone Technique. At first, the clones were fragile, collapsing under minimal impact. But with persistence, they became solid, capable of enduring sparring sessions and even executing basic jutsu.
Earth-element techniques also entered his repertoire. He started with simple techniques, such as creating small walls and detecting vibrations in the ground, but the foundation was solid. Now his focus shifted toward learning the Mist Body Flicker, an advanced technique promising unmatched mobility within the mist.
Today
Ganryū's blade slashed through the air again, the force sending ripples across the lake's surface. Ren dodged, his tanto barely meeting the blade, enough to redirect it. He felt his muscles burn, but his movements were smoother, more instinctive. The blindfold was no longer a hindrance.
"Better," Ganryū muttered under his breath, though he raised his voice to say: "But not good enough. You're still predictable."
Ren exhaled slowly, lowering his tanto as Ganryū stepped back.
"Take off the blindfold," the jonin ordered. Ren obeyed, blinking against the morning light. Ganryū's expression was unreadable as he sheathed his sword.
"You've improved," he said curtly. "But don't get comfortable. You're not ready to face a real enemy."
Ren tightened his grip on the tanto but nodded. He knew better than to argue. Instead, he focused on his breathing, letting the tension in his shoulders ease.
Ganryū turned to leave, tossing a scroll at Ren. "Study this. It's the next step in your training."
Ren caught the scroll, watching as Ganryū disappeared into the mist.
The academy buzzed with activity as Ren arrived later that morning. Yukiko waved him over, a rare smile on her face.
"Ready for another round of water-walking?" she teased.
"I thought I was done falling into the water," Ren replied with a smirk.
The students practiced in pairs, their steps growing steadier with each attempt. Ren deliberately held back, keeping his movements controlled but unremarkable. It was easier this way—to remain unnoticed.
That evening, Ren stood alone on the training field, Ganryū's scroll open before him. He focused his chakra, following the intricate patterns illustrated in the scroll. This wasn't a basic technique but an advanced extension of kenjutsu: learning to use the moisture in the mist to extend the reach of his blade.
As he practiced the initial kata, his blade seemed inert at first. Each movement required near-superhuman precision, the chakra needing to flow through the steel and beyond, merging with the surrounding moisture. His early attempts were disappointing; the blade barely vibrated, and the mist remained indifferent.
But Ren didn't stop. He repeated the movements, adjusting his breath and allowing the chakra to harmonize with the environment. After hours of effort, a faint trail formed behind the blade's arc, the moisture in the air finally responding. It wasn't perfect, but it was a beginning.
As the moon rose over Kirigakure, Ren continued to practice, the determination in his eyes shining brighter than the blade itself.