Naruto: Wolf of the Hidden Leaf

It was already dark by the time I reached the Inuzuka compound. The effects of my training with Elder Kazi were evident—I could see clearly even with no moon above. My night vision, a gift honed through months of relentless effort, had grown sharper by the day.

Normally, Elder Kazi and I would train after my sessions with Kurenai. But tonight's training had been canceled due to his worsening health. Once the undisputed strongest shinobi of our clan, age had finally caught up to him—along with the fact that Kurama had flung him halfway across the village with a single swipe. His son had taken over most of his duties now, leaving me as his last student.

A week after the Nine-Tails' attack, while still hospitalized, he'd summoned me. Not to scold, not to pry—just to offer guidance. He'd somehow heard about the incomplete Rasengan I used that night, but never asked how I knew such a technique. He wasn't interested in secrets. He was interested in passing down the ways of our clan.

And I accepted.

Now, even without scheduled training, I headed to the secluded training ground my father built for me. Hidden within the forest, yet close enough to the compound that Root agents wouldn't dare intrude.

The devastation here over the past seven months spoke for itself. Broken trees, shattered rocks, gouged earth—each a mark of my evolution. I had changed in the last seven months. I would say that I have changed more than I would ever have expected. How I see things have changed on a massive scale.

The Academy had long become a formality, I've learned the formal stuff months ago. I hadn't attended in months—only my shadow clone did. Umbra, unfortunately, had to accompany the clone, since he couldn't make one of his own. Ninjutsu wasn't exactly his strength.

But mine? Mine had grown to something terrifying.

I raised my right hand, chakra swirling into a perfectly contained sphere. Rasengan. Both Stable and Controlled.

Seven months ago, it took me everything I have to even try to control the chakra properly. Now forming a Rasengan has become as easy as breathing.

Even Itachi, with all his raw potential, wouldn't scratch me unless he awakened his Sharingan soon. We trained occasionally—more obligation than friendship. His father, Fugaku Uchiha, had arranged it after the attack, hoping our rivalry would sharpen Itachi's edge. But rivalry implied emotion. Connection.

Itachi didn't exactly care for that. He desired strength for his own principles not for some petty rivalry.

Today was different, though.

Today, I was going to meet Shisui Uchiha.

And Shisui... Shisui was someone I couldn't afford to underestimate. He already has attained his mangekyou sharingan and the abilities of that mangekyou sharingan was extremely terring and useful.

By the time I reached the training ground, Shisui and Itachi were already there. Shisui was talking, Itachi just listening like usual. Before they could sense me, I used a minor genjutsu—just for fun. At that exact moment, Shisui turned and waved.

"You must be Rei. I'm Shisui Uchiha. Nice to meet you."

I smiled, deliberately casual. "It's an honor that the Shisui Uchiha knows my name. You're a bit of a legend."

He returned the smile, but only his mouth moved. His eyes remained still. Calculating.

"Let's train. We can talk more while we move."

The session started with basic trap-clearing and shuriken drills. Itachi focused on precision, clearing fields like a machine. Meanwhile, I took the opportunity to request personal sword training with Shisui.

Most shinobi didn't use katanas. Instead, they favored the chokutō—a straight-edged, single-sided blade that allowed for one-handed use and maximum mobility. It was ideal for ninjas who needed to throw kunai or jutsu mid-combat with their off hand.

Shisui was a master of this style—fluid, efficient, and deadly. Itachi had clearly learned from him, evident from his top scores in ninja tools class. That was the one class where I'd always be second.

And I was okay with that.

Weapons weren't my forte—they were my fallback. My true strength was elsewhere: in my senses, my precision, my genjutsu, my rasengan obviously. But I needed the sword for pressure, for versatility, for dominance in close quarters.

Today, I was also testing a theory. One that, if true, would clarify much about what I knew about my genjutsu affinity.

Shisui walked me through footwork, grip adjustments, and how to use momentum to overpower stronger opponents. My taijutsu was already decent, but now—with the chakra control I'd developed through genjutsu training and Rasengan practice—I could crack stone with a punch.

Medical ninjutsu required the same finesse in chakra control as genjutsu. And I wanted to master both. But I haven't had much time focusing on it as I've focused more on increasing my firepower.

Even Umbra, lounging at the edge of the field, looked mildly impressed.

Eventually, Itachi joined in again. His weapon handling was graceful—more dancer than killer. We trained until sundown. At one point, Umbra asked if he could learn swordplay too.

I laughed and declined. A wolf with a sword in his mouth looked cool in theory—until he accidentally impaled himself.

All in all, the day was productive.

But more than that, it was enlightening.

Because I was this close to confirming something important.

Something that would reshape everything.

Shisui POV

As Rei disappeared down the path, Umbra padding silently beside him, Itachi resumed training with his sword. Shisui watched them go, a flicker of something unfamiliar in his chest.

He activated his Sharingan.

Three tomoe spiraled into place. The world sharpened, slowed. Chakra threads lit up in his vision—bright, defined, and alive.

He'd felt it the moment Rei arrived. Something was off. He'd dismissed it earlier after finding nothing with his sharingan when Rei was clearing traps—too subtle to pinpoint. But now…

Now he saw it.

There was residual chakra on Umbra's eyes—faint, precise, deliberately hidden.

A genjutsu.

His Sharingan analyzed the flow again. It had been perfectly masked—embedded so cleanly into the ninken's optic stream that it blended into instinct. Rei hadn't opened his eyes once during the entire session.

He was seeing through Umbra's eyes the whole time.

Vision sharing wasn't unheard of among Inuzuka, but this wasn't mere sensory overlap. This was coordination. Cloaking. Deception.

And it had been wrapped in a genjutsu so subtle that even Sharingan had failed to detect it before.

Shisui couldn't help but smile.

Not out of mockery.

Out of respect.

Because while Rei's technique wasn't dangerous—this time—it was masterfully done. Flawless genjutsu casting, hidden in plain sight, maintained throughout a full day of training. Even he hadn't noticed it until the very end. Although it bothered him that Rei didn't trust his enough to even open his eyes.

He glanced over to Itachi—his brother in all but blood.

Itachi was a gifted kid.

He understood why Fugaku has instructed Itachi to train with him

He muttered under his breath, just loud enough for the trees to hear:

"What a terrifying yin chakra."