Kakashi and Sasuke looked up to see Mamoru drop lightly from the sky, short black hair fluttering. He touched down, then began unstrapping several bulging packs.
"Supplies delivered."
"Thanks for the trouble, Mamoru." Kakashi gave a small nod, tone mild.
"No need for thanks." Mamoru set the last pack down and dusted his hands. "As Sasuke's big brother, I should be thanking you."
He walked over to the still-sitting Sasuke, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"I'm the older brother." Sasuke retorted between breaths.
Mamoru crouched to eye level, mischief glinting. "Didn't you know? The one born later is the elder."
"Whatever logic you're using…" Sasuke turned away, too tired to argue.
"So, you still haven't learned Chidori?" Mamoru's teasing faded into quiet concern as he studied his brother's exhausted profile.
"Almost…" Sasuke ground out, frustrated.
"It's been over half a month. I expected you to have it by now." Mamoru folded his arms, pretending to judge.
Kakashi cut in, "He's already grasped the principle. The rest is finesse and Chakra control, time will finish it."
Mamoru raised an eyebrow. "The principle? Isn't the core just condensing Chakra and adding Lightning nature? Sounds simple."
Kakashi replied, his lone eye serious, "In theory, yes. But translating theory into a combat-ready Ninjutsu demands micro-control and stability, far harder than it sounds."
"Is that so?" Mamoru nudged Sasuke's calf with a toe. "Up."
"What for?" Sasuke scowled up at him, fatigue and defiance mixing in his dark eyes.
"You can still move. Show me once." Mamoru said.
Sasuke clicked his tongue, clearly unwilling, yet forced himself to stand. He rolled his aching arm, formed the seals, then turned his palm down into the Chidori start-position.
Mamoru quietly activated the Six Eyes, tracing every filament of Chakra. Lightning flared again, a brief harsh chirp accompanying a spray of sparks, then it crumbled.
"Failed again…" Sasuke lowered his arm, voice low with disappointment.
"So the real snag is stabilizing the shape change."
Mamoru nodded thoughtfully, then lifted his right hand, fingers slightly bent—no hand seals, no stance.
Chirrrrrr—
A deafening flock-of-birds cry exploded, many times sharper and denser than Sasuke's attempt.
Under Kakashi and Sasuke's stunned gazes, Mamoru reproduced Chidori perfectly. Brilliant blue lightning roared in his grip, the glare dyeing the cliffs blue and casting long shadows from every pebble.
"This…" Kakashi straightened involuntarily, visible eye wide with shock.
"How…" Sasuke's pupils contracted, lips parting in disbelief. He stared at the obedient yet savage lightning in Mamoru's hand as if reality had tilted.
Keeping the crackling right hand leveled, Mamoru stepped toward a boulder at the summit, stood before it, and swept his arm sideways.
Shhk!
Lightning sheared through stone and a crisp detonation followed. The boulder split cleanly, then disintegrated into tumbling chunks, dust scattering under crackling after-shocks.
With a casual flick, Mamoru dispersed the lightning and turned back. "Using Lightning Chakra to stimulate cells for a burst of speed, plus piercing power and Sharingan precision—an excellent ambush tactic."
Kakashi finally found his voice, inwardly stunned.
'Monstrous talent… maybe his earlier claim of inventing the Rasengan wasn't a bluff.'
He noticed that in the Chidori Mamoru had just shown, the Chakra condensation, shaping, and micro-control were slightly superior to his own.
Sasuke's fists clenched, frustration written across his face. He looked at the shattered rock, then at his empty palm, and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.
Mamoru said, patting Sasuke's tense shoulder. "The technique is interesting. Without these eyes, we'd probably learn at the same speed."
Sasuke snorted, shook the hand off, and strode to an open space to resume training, eyes sharper and more resolute than ever.
Watching him, Mamoru shrugged, then turned to Kakashi. "Well then, I'll take this jutsu without reservation."
Kakashi replied, eyes half-lidded again. "Fine by me. Your learning speed is something else. They call me the Copy Ninja, but that title may change hands soon."
Mamoru waved dismissively. "I've zero interest in titles. I'm off. Keep looking after him."
Kakashi nodded. "Leave it to me."
Before the words faded, Mamoru vanished, leaving only footprints behind.
Gazing at the setting sun, Kakashi mused, "That boy is destined to become one of Konoha's pillars."
—
Clack... Clack…
Unhurried footsteps echoed down an empty corridor.
The door clicked open.
Balancing a tea-tray in one hand, Mamoru turned the knob with the other and slipped inside.
Afternoon sunlight slanted through lattice panes, cutting bright shafts through air smelling of turpentine and linseed.
Yakumo sat before the easel, back straight, lost in her own world.
Mamoru walked to a low cabinet in the corner, set the tea-tray down gently, lifted the white porcelain pot, and poured tea into the cup.
Water murmured and steam curled.
He carried the cup to Yakumo's side and held it out. "Tea."
Yakumo lifted her face, eyes curving in a smile. "Thank you."
She cradled the warm cup in both hands and sipped cautiously, like a kitten testing river water—delicate, wary.
Mamoru's gaze swept over the pale blue painting, then to the corner where bright, sun-lit new canvases leaned, vivid against the dark nightmares she had painted before.
"New piece… what will it be?" He flicked his chin toward the canvas.
"Secret." Yakumo beamed over her cup, a sly spark in her eyes.
"Mysterious as ever." He studied the blue again. "But that ground looks like the sky after rain, clean."
Yakumo followed his gaze, her smile softening. "Yes. You need a sky first… so the light has somewhere to live."
"So that's it." Mamoru rubbed his chin in mock solemnity. "Art's too deep for me. Music, though... I know a little."
"Music?" Yakumo blinked, then shot him a sidelong glare. "Music speaks to the soul. What do your noises say?"
He bristled, "You just don't get it. Let me play you something and you'll see."
Yakumo slammed her hands over her ears. "No! I'd like to keep my hearing."
That only fueled Mamoru, he strode to the piano and lifted the lid.
Yakumo retreated a step, laughing. "Fine, I surrender. I don't want to find out."
Mamoru nodded, eyes narrowing. "Good. Though you still look defiant."
"…"
Yakumo lost the battle and smiled. "Not at all, great artist."
Mamoru closed the lid. "Since you're so obedient, I'll spare you."
Yakumo shook her head helplessly, gaze drifting to the dappled tree-shadows outside.
She turned. "By the way, the final round of the Chunin Exams is soon, isn't it?"
Mamoru answered, unruffled, "Less than a week."
Yakumo asked, curious, "Aren't you nervous?"
Mamoru raised an eyebrow. "Would you worry if your opponents were toddlers?"
Yakumo laughed. "That's mean, calling them babies."
Mamoru said, confident and lazy. "Not bragging, but all the contestants together might finally make it interesting."
Yakumo looked at him, skeptical. "Are you really that strong?"
Challenged, Mamoru dragged a stool beside her and sat.
He said solemnly, "Since you clearly don't know me, I'll educate you."
Yakumo teased, "Oh, the great teacher?"
"Don't want to hear my secret? Fine."
"Secret?" Curiosity hooked her and she caught his sleeve. "Tell me."
"Good." Mamoru folded his arms, settling in. "First… my eyes."