The sky above was awash in pale gold as dawn crept over the Hidden Leaf. Early rays filtered through the leaves, scattering patterns onto the dirt path where Shin walked with determined steps. The Uchiha compound was still mostly asleep, save for the occasional chirp of a bird or rustle of wind through the trees. The village beyond was just beginning to stir.
Shin took a deep breath and tightened the scroll case on his back. His destination was the familiar training ground just past the southern woods—a secluded glade dotted with scorched rocks, target posts, and tree stumps carved with kunai marks from years of drills. It was quiet, private. Just what he needed.
Only two days until the Academy starts, he thought. Once classes begin, I'll barely get time to train on my own. I need to maximize every second now.
And topping his priority list was one thing: mastering the Shadow Clone Jutsu.
He had no delusions. It was a difficult technique—B-rank for a reason. It required not just precise chakra control but a deep understanding of form and vitality. It was advanced, something most genin struggled with well into their first year. But Shin had no time for slow progress.
If I can create shadow clones, I can train multiple things at once. I could practice barrier theory, fire jutsu, taijutsu—all in parallel. It's the only way I can stay ahead.
He stepped into the center of the glade, letting the silence settle over him like a shroud. Trees circled the clearing like silent sentinels, the earth beneath him dry but packed from repeated use. The old training logs stood to the side, some burned black from fire-style practices. Shin dropped his bag, cracked his knuckles, and exhaled slowly.
"All right. Let's go."
He formed the hand signs carefully: Tiger → Ram → Snake → Clone.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
A sharp pulse of chakra surged outward—and fizzled with a puff of smoke. Nothing.
"Too little chakra," he muttered. "Or unstable flow."
He tried again.
And again.
And again.
Every attempt ended in failure—either no clone, a deformed one that collapsed in seconds, or simply smoke. Sometimes his chakra wouldn't mold right. Sometimes it would split, but not anchor.
Sweat slid down his neck as the sun rose higher. His fingers trembled slightly as he reset his hands for the next attempt. His control was solid. His chakra reserves had improved. Why wasn't it working?
What am I missing? Yin shapes the clone—Yang gives it vitality. The problem isn't splitting chakra. It's the balance. My intent isn't carrying through…
He fell to his knees, breathing heavily. His chakra was half-drained.
Damn it… is it still too early for me?
But giving up wasn't in Shin's nature. Not after all he'd been through. He lay on his back, staring at the branches above, watching as light dappled through the leaves. The scent of warm earth filled his nose. A hawk cried in the distance.
Take a break, he told himself. Reset. Then try something else for now.
He sat up and retrieved the small, worn scroll his grandfather had left him—The Flame Ground Jutsu. A unique Uchiha fire-style technique passed only within the clan. He had studied it for weeks, even managed to activate it once. But it still required immense focus.
He bit his thumb lightly, channeling a surge of chakra to his lungs. With a deep inhale, he formed the signs: Tiger → Ox → Dragon → Snake → Ram.
"Fire Style: Flame Ground Jutsu!"
He exhaled sharply, sweeping his hand low to the earth as a surge of fire chakra passed through his soles. A bright line of flame spread in a semi-circle around him, tracing through the dirt with a hiss. The heat rose instantly, creating a warm barrier just above the surface.
It burned for a few seconds before flickering out.
"Still takes too much out of me," he muttered. "But at least I can activate it now."
He leaned forward and tried again. And again.
Every attempt grew cleaner. He began to experiment—controlling the curve of the flames, adjusting the width of the line. It wasn't battle-ready yet, but he could see the potential. The technique could trap enemies in close quarters, force movement, or even ignite combustible terrain.
After an hour of flame drills, he shifted to the basics: Fireball Jutsu and Fire Bullet Jutsu. These had become staples of his arsenal, but he still hadn't achieved his goal—reducing the hand signs to just one.
He formed Horse → Tiger, inhaled, and launched a fireball into the clearing. It soared into the trees and exploded with a dull boom, startling a flock of birds into flight.
Still needs both signs, he thought grimly. Grandpa could do it with just Tiger. I'm not there yet.
Next, he moved to Fire Bullet Jutsu. A shorter sequence: Boar → Rat. The fire burst from his lips in rapid projectiles, peppering the stump targets.
Better accuracy, less chakra. But…
He tried doing it with just Boar. Nothing. Tried just Rat. Still nothing.
"Tch."
The frustration was beginning to build again.
"Too slow, not precise enough, not strong enough…!" He clenched his fists, staring at the scorch marks on the ground. Kazuro said I had high affinity with Yin and Yang… but that's not enough. Talent isn't progress. Only work is.
He dropped to his knees again, fingers digging into the dirt.
"I need to get stronger. Faster."
Silence answered him—only the wind replying, as if carrying the words away.
He stayed still for a while, listening to the forest. The hum of insects. The distant murmur of villagers beginning their day. The steady rhythm of his own breath.
Then, slowly, he stood.
"Again," he whispered.
He formed the Shadow Clone hand signs once more, but this time, he poured everything into it—not just chakra, but belief.
I will create you. I will give you form. I will give you life.
Tiger → Ram → Snake → Clone.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
A loud boom of smoke exploded beside him—and for the first time, the clone didn't vanish. It stood upright, blinking at him.
"…Yo," it said with a cocked eyebrow. "Took you long enough."
Shin broke into a grin, despite himself. "Shut up. Get to training."
And they did. The clone took up target drills while the original practiced hand seal reduction. Every strike, every insight the clone gained—it all returned when the clone dispersed.
As sunset neared and the sky turned amber, Shin sat under a tree, sweaty, tired, and smiling faintly.
He had done it.
The Shadow Clone was real.
But even as the satisfaction buzzed in his chest, another thought circled his mind—barrier jutsu.
Could it be used… offensively?
A dome that locked someone in. A wall that crushed with pressure. A cage of solid chakra made from Yin and Yang, harmonized to the edge of weaponization.
What if I shaped the barrier around someone, then compressed it? Could I… trap an enemy that way?
His eyes gleamed with interest.
Shadow Clones were just the beginning. His journey into chakra manipulation had only begun.
And tomorrow, he'd go even further.