Ren's side kick slammed into Hizashi's raised arm and rebounded instantly.
The impact surprised both of them.
Ren felt as though he had kicked a slab of iron, while Hizashi, after taking the strike head-on, smoothly adjusted his footing and used the force of the collision to twist his body. His right palm cut through the air with a sharp whistle, driving straight toward the opening in Ren's chest like a spear.
So fast!
Ren's nerves tightened in an instant.
But he had already expected Hizashi to be far stronger than Homon. Shocked though he was, he did not panic. The moment that palm shot toward him, he pushed off the ground with both legs and sprang backward like a startled raccoon dog, retreating seven or eight meters in one burst.
The fingertip strike of the Gentle Fist barely missed him.
Had it landed, the consequences would not have been light. The Hyuga clan's taijutsu was no joke. Even a glancing hit could disrupt chakra flow, and Ren had no intention of learning that lesson firsthand.
In a single exchange, the distance between them widened again.
The clash had been fast—sudden movement, instant contact, immediate separation.
Hizashi slowly lowered the arm he had used to block, his pale eyes still locked on Ren. This time, however, there was unmistakable astonishment in his face.
"Hey," he said after a moment, "that displacement technique you used when you rushed in earlier… was that really the Substitution Jutsu?"
His voice turned more serious.
"A modified version?"
Ren flexed his right foot subtly.
The numbness still lingered in his instep.
That kick had really felt like slamming into hardened steel.
Still, outwardly, he kept his expression calm.
"Of course it's the Substitution Jutsu," he said. "What else would it be?"
Hizashi's brows drew together.
He had learned the Substitution Jutsu himself, just like every other Konoha shinobi. The Hyuga clan might not specialize in elemental ninjutsu, but that did not mean they ignored foundational techniques. The Three Basic Jutsu, medical arts, and even certain sealing methods all fell within their range of study.
But what Ren had just done…
That was no ordinary substitution.
To Hizashi, it had almost resembled the combat use of the Flying Thunder God.
And even stranger—
Ren had hardly seemed to form hand seals at all.
That was what truly bothered him.
The Substitution Jutsu was an E-rank technique, simple and basic. But because it was simple, there was usually almost no room to optimize it. Simplifying such a technique into a near-instant, almost seal-less version should have been absurd.
Even the Second Hokage, the man famous for simplifying seals and refining techniques, might not have bothered to push something like the academy Substitution Jutsu this far.
Ren, however, only shrugged.
After that first probing exchange, he had more or less confirmed something important.
Hizashi had not come here with obvious malice.
He really did seem to be here out of curiosity, perhaps even appreciation.
In that case…
Ren could be a little bolder.
He let out a slow breath.
"If Senior Hyuga didn't see it clearly," he said, "then let's do it again."
As soon as the words fell, both of his hands moved.
Kunai and shuriken flashed between his fingers.
Then he threw them all at once.
Whoosh—! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Seven or eight blades tore through the air in a blur.
They crossed paths, collided, and used each other's momentum to alter direction mid-flight. In an instant, the projectiles traced dazzling arcs from multiple angles and converged toward Hizashi in a complicated pattern.
The sophistication was nowhere near the monstrous level of the future Uchiha prodigy who would be weaving impossible trajectories across battlefields at age four.
But for a civilian academy student?
It was more than impressive.
It was shocking.
Hizashi's eyes narrowed.
Faced with the incoming storm of steel, he planted his feet as if rooted to the earth and let out a low shout.
"Gentle Fist: Eight Trigrams, Thirty-Two Palms!"
The next moment, his arms blurred.
Chakra wrapped around his palms in an invisible coating as he struck, deflected, tapped, and redirected with astonishing speed. Each movement was precise, clean, and perfectly controlled. The incoming kunai and shuriken seemed to slam into an invisible wall, knocked aside one after another before they could reach him.
Clang! Clack! Ting! Tak!
The training ground filled with a rapid series of metallic impacts.
And in the middle of that storm—
Poof!
Smoke burst from the air.
Ren disappeared from his original position and reappeared at Hizashi's front-left side, no more than a meter away. His fist drove immediately toward the exposed armpit beneath Hizashi's raised right arm.
Hizashi did not even turn his head.
His left hand shot backward like a venomous snake, stabbing toward Ren's throat.
But his fingers pierced only smoke.
The image dissolved.
A clone? An afterimage? Another substitution?
Before Hizashi could fully process it, his Byakugan caught another chakra fluctuation.
"Behind!"
He pivoted sharply and lashed out with a side kick.
Nothing.
The figure there dispersed into smoke as well.
"Left!"
He turned again.
"Right!"
Another blur.
Every time smoke burst, Ren seemed to flicker into existence from a new angle, using the smallest gap in Hizashi's defense to launch another attack—a straight punch, a low kick, a slash with a kunai, a sudden feint into retreat.
Each one was fast.
Each one was timed well.
And each one was blocked.
Hizashi's Gentle Fist answered everything.
He never moved more than a meter from where he stood.
He was like a boulder standing in the middle of a crashing river, unmoved by the surging current.
Bang! Bam! Crack!
The sound of palms and limbs colliding echoed over the training ground.
At last, amid one especially rapid series of exchanges, Hizashi growled through clenched teeth, "Useless!"
He swept another attack aside.
"My Byakugan has no blind spots! No matter where you appear, you cannot escape its sight!"
Ren did not answer.
But inside, he had already reached the same conclusion.
His upgraded Substitution Jutsu was unquestionably fast.
With the new trait enhancement, the activation itself took only around 0.2 seconds.
But that was only the activation.
Even after substituting, his body still needed to reposition, regain balance, and continue the attack. That tiny delay, though short, was enough for an experienced Chunin with nearly complete visual coverage and combat-hardened reflexes to react.
Which meant—
The true terror of Minato Namikaze's Flying Thunder God had never been the technique alone.
It was the man using it.
His reaction speed, spatial balance, combat instincts, and dynamic vision were what transformed teleportation into absolute slaughter.
Without that level of personal ability, a similar movement technique was just a trick.
Ren knew this already from memory.
After all, even the Fourth Hokage's bodyguard squad could perform the Flying Thunder God formation with teamwork. Yet in actual close combat, it lacked Minato's near-divine lethality.
That was the difference between technique and mastery.
First hypothesis confirmed.
Ren vanished again.
This time, instead of immediately striking, he changed tactics.
The moment he completed the substitution, he layered another technique on top of it—Transformation Technique.
Hizashi, with his back partly turned, instinctively scanned the area using his Byakugan.
Then he frowned.
He turned his head.
Nothing.
His white eyes swept the ground, the trees, the air above, the edges of the field.
No Ren.
Not above.
Not below.
Not to the left or right.
His expression shifted for the first time into genuine confusion.
Where had he gone?
While that brief uncertainty spread through his mind, a perfectly ordinary gray bird flapped its wings through the air.
It was small, unremarkable, and so natural-looking that it drew no suspicion at all.
The bird circled lightly and positioned itself in the narrow conical zone behind Hizashi's upper spine—
the one blind spot of the branch family Byakugan.
It was tiny.
Precise.
Easy to miss.
And at the exact moment Hizashi's focus faltered—
Poof!
Smoke burst again.
The bird vanished.
Ren's true body appeared in midair, already in position. While transformed, he had completed his hand seals in advance. The instant his body returned, he drew in a deep breath, chest swelling as chakra surged toward his throat.
Then he exhaled violently.
"Fire Release… Great Fireball Technique!"
Inside his mind, a familiar lively voice practically screamed with joy.
[Great Fireball Technique: Wooo! Finally, it's my turn! Watching from the sidelines this whole time was killing me! Burn him! Burn that smug white-eyed guy into charcoal!]
"WHOOSH—BOOM!"
A massive orange-red fireball erupted from Ren's mouth.
It was more than a meter wide, blazing with fierce heat.
The air itself seemed to distort around it.
With the enhancement of Spirit of Fire, the flames burned hotter and fuller than a normal Great Fireball should. The torrent of heat surged downward toward Hizashi like a miniature sun dropping from the sky.
Hizashi's pupils shrank.
The rapidly expanding sphere of flame reflected in his pale eyes.
He had not seen Ren vanish.
He had not detected the bird.
And he definitely had not expected a civilian academy student to unleash a C-rank Fire Release with this level of power.
For the first time since the spar began, real danger struck him.
"What—?!"
The fireball was already almost on top of him.
There was no time to dodge cleanly.
No time to run.
At the critical moment, Hizashi's entire body erupted with chakra.
His feet rooted to the ground.
His expression turned fierce.
With a sharp explosive shout, he released chakra from every tenketsu in his body and spun at high speed.
"Rotation!!"
Blue-white chakra burst out in an instant.
A spinning dome formed around him like a living sphere of force.
The Great Fireball slammed into it head-on.
BOOOOM!
Flames exploded outward.
Heat and chakra collided in a violent burst, sending air and dust whipping across the training ground. Burning embers scattered in all directions while the ground beneath Hizashi's feet cracked under the pressure.
Ren landed several meters away, raising an arm to shield his face from the blast wave.
The flames churned for a moment more…
Then dispersed.
At the center of the scorched ground stood Hizashi, chest rising slightly with heavier breaths than before.
His clothes were singed at the edges.
A few strands of hair had been burned.
But he was standing.
Completely intact.
The last wisps of chakra from the Rotation faded around him.
Ren stared.
So did Hizashi.
The two of them faced each other across the blackened training ground in complete silence.
Then Hizashi slowly lowered his guard.
This time, the look in his eyes had changed completely.
The earlier curiosity was gone.
What remained was something far more serious.
"…You almost hit me with that."
Ren gave a dry smile.
"That was the idea."
For a second, Hizashi looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or scold him.
Then he exhaled sharply through his nose.
"No," he said. "What I mean is—"
He looked around at the scorched grass, the scattered weapons, and the faint heat still rising off the earth.
"—I underestimated you."
That was not false modesty.
It was the truth.
At first, Hizashi had only come to verify Homon's story. He had expected talent, cleverness, maybe even some unusual instincts.
He had not expected this.
Not the enhanced Substitution Jutsu.
Not the near-perfect Transformation concealment.
And certainly not a Great Fireball powerful enough to force him into Rotation.
Ren rolled his shoulder once.
His chakra reserves had definitely taken a hit from that last combination.
The Transformation, substitution chain, and fire release in quick succession had not been light on consumption.
Still…
It had worked.
Against someone with the Byakugan, no less.
His guess had been correct.
If his Transformation Technique became realistic enough, and if he understood the blind spot of the Hyuga branch family precisely enough, then it could slip through even the Byakugan's field of vision.
That alone made the upgrade worth far more than he had first realized.
Hizashi took a few steps forward and stopped.
"This spar ends here," he said.
Ren nodded without argument.
That was fine with him.
He had already tested what he wanted to test.
Hizashi glanced at Ren's face, then said after a pause, "Your taijutsu still needs work. Your body movement is sharp, but you rely too much on technique transitions and sudden repositioning. If someone drags you into a prolonged close-range exchange, you'll suffer."
Ren did not argue with that either.
Because it was true.
"But…" Hizashi continued, "your creativity is ridiculous."
That was as close to praise as the Hyuga youth seemed willing to say outright.
"You understand how to combine techniques better than many grown shinobi."
He looked at Ren more carefully.
"If you survive long enough to grow properly, you'll become troublesome."
Ren clicked his tongue. "That doesn't sound like a compliment."
"For a shinobi," Hizashi replied calmly, "it is."
For the first time, the tension between them eased.
The afternoon wind blew across the field, carrying away the last traces of heat.
After a moment, Hizashi added, "I meant what I said earlier. If you want guidance in basic taijutsu and footwork, I can help."
He glanced once at the scorched patch where the fireball had struck.
"Not because you need more tricks."
His pale eyes returned to Ren.
"But because if you make those tricks any more dangerous, you'd better have the body to support them."
Ren was quiet for two seconds.
Then he nodded.
"…Alright."
A faint smile touched Hizashi's face.
"Good."
He turned to leave, then paused halfway and said without looking back, "And next time…"
Ren raised an eyebrow.
"…Warn me before you try to roast me alive."
This time, Ren really did laugh.
"No promises."
Hizashi shook his head and walked off.
Ren remained where he was, staring at the scorched training ground.
His Substitution Jutsu had improved.
His Transformation Technique had improved.
And now, even against a Hyuga Chunin, he had managed to force out Rotation.
That result was better than he had expected.
Much better.
He looked down at his hands, then slowly clenched them.
The road ahead was still long.
But step by step—
he was becoming dangerous.
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