Naruto: Mixed Heritage(Rewrite)

Having experienced a light bulb moment, Renjiro did not hesitate to try it out.

"I just hope that this works out," Renjiro murmured, his voice hoarse with effort. He held up his right hand once more, summoning chakra with precise intent. His fingers twitched, responding to the muscle memory drilled into him over the last three days. A Rasengan formed—roaring and spinning violently. He layered his wind chakra, shaping it with delicate balance, and the sphere morphed into the iconic, lethal Rasenshuriken. It whirled like a miniature typhoon, its sharp shrill cutting the air around it.

But even as it formed, Renjiro winced. The pain was sharp now, like hundreds of needles stabbing into his hand all at once. His arm trembled under the weight of the volatile chakra. Clenching his teeth, he tried to form a barrier around the Rasenshuriken.

"Fwshh—!"

The Rasenshuriken, and the half-formed barrier, sputtered and dissolved into mist before it could leave his palm. Renjiro let out a frustrated groan, stumbling back a few steps and clutching his hand.

He whispered. "Senjutsu would've solved this, but…" He trailed off, eyes darkening. The memory of his failure to harness natural energy properly was still a bitter wound.

"...It was the last time I felt pain like this," he finished aloud.

Determined, Renjiro clenched his jaw and began channelling chakra again. His hand trembled as the Rasenshuriken took form, its whirling shriek louder now, more unstable. Razor-thin blades of wind tore micro-lacerations into his arm. His skin stung. His bones vibrated. But he held firm.

He then moulded a barrier around it, slow and deliberate. His left hand formed a precise one-handed seal, while his right fought to contain the chaotic energy inside the Rasenshuriken. Sweat poured down his face, matting his hair and soaking his collar.

The air shimmered. For a heartbeat, the barrier began to take shape—a faint dome of translucent chakra around the spinning vortex. His eyes lit up.

Then—

"Crack!"

The result was still the same. Renjiro coughed, the dust burning in his lungs, and rolled onto his side, groaning.

"Poor Kakuzu…" he muttered hoarsely, wincing as he wiped grime from his cheek. "If this is what he felt when Naruto landed that Rasenshuriken, his death must've been excruciating."

He sat up slowly, limbs shaking. His vision blurred at the edges. But he didn't stop.

He couldn't afford to.

Staggering to his feet, he popped another soldier pill, not even bothering to taste it anymore. His mouth had long since gone numb from chakra-supplement overuse. The warmth it brought was faint this time—like trying to rekindle a dying fire with damp kindling.

Renjiro narrowed his eyes, furrowed his brow, and began again.

He adjusted the chakra blend—less raw Wind chakra, more Yin to stabilize the form's structure, and more Yang to bind it cohesively. It was like juggling glass blades. One wrong shift, one excess flicker of energy, and the entire thing would explode in his face.

Again, the barrier collapsed.

And again.

And again.

Three more times, the Rasenshuriken disintegrated into nothingness. One time it almost detonated prematurely, blasting the wind sphere into a nearby boulder and shaving off half of it in a single violent slice.

Renjiro barely dodged the recoil, diving to the side with chakra-charged reflexes.

Blood now mixed with sweat on his fingers. The skin on his palm was reddened and raw, tiny blisters beginning to form where the unstable chakra had kissed flesh.

His chest heaved. His back ached. His legs were cramping from chakra depletion.

Still—he did not stop.

On the fourth attempt, something changed.

As he summoned the Rasenshuriken again, he allowed his breathing to guide his chakra flow. Inhale. Shape the core. Exhale. Wrap the wind. Inhale. Stabilize the axis.

Then he moulded the barrier—not as a rigid container, but as a dynamic, living membrane, spinning with the Rasenshuriken instead of against it. It wasn't a cage. It was a partner.

A soft hum vibrated in the air.

The barrier flickered to life around the Rasenshuriken—a thin, iridescent layer of chakra, shimmering with soft hues of crimson and gold. The howling edges no longer bit into his palm. The spinning vortex felt... tamed.

He stared at it in disbelief.

"It... it worked," he whispered.

The Rasenshuriken hummed quietly inside its chakra shell, like a storm locked inside a crystal orb. A devastating promise, now refined.

But another realization struck him.

Control.

Renjiro frowned. He couldn't rely on standard sealing formulas or Konoha's textbook barriers. His technique was more personalized, and more intimate. His greatest control over chakra constructs came when he infused them with his own blood—a trick that evolved from months of experimenting with Uzumaki bloodline resonance. Chakra infused with his blood obeyed.

It listened.

'Go with what works,' he thought.

He reached into his pouch, fingers shaking, and pulled a small kunai. With a sharp, practised motion, he drew the blade across his palm. Warm blood welled up instantly and dripped from his fingertips.

He summoned a fresh Rasenshuriken and, using his bleeding hand, began to shape the barrier—this time drawing seal patterns into the air with his own blood as the ink. Crimson threads shimmered in the air and wrapped around the jutsu like calligraphy drawn in light.

The construct hummed again—but deeper this time. Resonant. Alive.

A low thrumming pulse vibrated through the chakra.

This time, it felt different.

Controlled. Contained. Deadly.

Then—he threw it.

"Rasenshuriken!"

Whooosh—!

The projectile tore through the air like a shrieking comet, cutting a clean arc over the battlefield. It spun and roared like a miniature hurricane, its chakra barrier flaring brilliantly against the wind.

A heartbeat later—it landed.

"Boooommmm!!!"

The distant hill vanished.

The explosion ripped through the landscape, a dome of white-hot light followed by a concussive blast that sent dust, stone, and scorched earth hundreds of meters into the air. The trees beyond the impact site bent backwards violently before disintegrating. Even from this distance, Renjiro had to raise his arms to shield his eyes from the glare and ride out the trembling shockwave.

A deep silence followed.

Then—

A slow grin spread across his face. "Finally..."

He rolled his shoulder with effort, joints clicking from overuse, but his excitement numbed the pain.

"Let's try again."

What followed was a gruelling test of body and spirit.

For the next hour, Renjiro pushed himself harder than ever. He popped another soldier pill and ignored the nausea that followed. His chakra surged, but it was frayed at the edges now, thin and worn like an overused thread.

He summoned another Rasenshuriken—this time with additional Wind chakra. The barrier strained under the added pressure, cracking slightly along the seam. He adjusted the blood pattern, reinforcing the stabilizing runes—and the construct held. He hurled it with precision into a tree line.

"Krakoooom!!"

A fifty-meter trench was carved into the earth, trees vaporized, soil turned to molten slag.

"Damn..." he breathed.

Again.

He repeated the process—fine-tuning the chakra ratios, adjusting for different wind angles, tweaking the barrier's thickness. He tested how the construct responded to different throws: fast overhand arcs, sharp downward tosses, and lateral sweeps. He even tried layering a faint genjutsu pulse into the chakra barrier, just to see if it could confuse sensory types long enough to mask the projectile.

With every throw, every explosion, every step forward—he became more efficient.

More lethal.

But by the sixth attempt, his body betrayed him.

The jutsu fizzled halfway through forming. His knees buckled. His vision dimmed.

He collapsed, gasping. The earth beneath him felt cool despite the sun's heat. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts. He let himself fall back, limbs sprawled wide, blinking up at the empty blue sky overhead.

His heartbeat thudded like a war drum in his ears.

"Heh…" he chuckled weakly. "Fights might actually get easier…"

For a long moment, he lay there.

Only the wind moved.

Only the sky watched.

Then—his brow furrowed.

A faint thought bubbled up through the exhaustion.

"Wait…"

He sat up slowly, the pain returning in waves.

"If I start using this now…"

He trailed off, his voice rising in pitch as his eyes widened.

"Does that mean Naruto… won't come up with it?"

A long, stunned pause.

"Ah, crap."

His face twisted in a mixture of amusement and mild dread. "Please don't tell me I might be changing the timeline again…"

With a sigh, Renjiro collapsed back onto the cracked earth.

A hawk cried overhead, circling in lazy arcs.

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