Chapter 12: The Weight of Light
Hyuga Shinra left the compound behind, the familiar path to his secluded training ground now as well-trodden as the halls of his own home. The air was crisp and clean, filled with the scent of pine and damp earth.
"Shadow Clone Technique!" he announced, his hands flashing through the necessary seals.
Poof! Poof!
Two identical copies of himself materialized in a puff of white smoke, their starry-blue eyes looking back at him expectantly.
"You," he ordered, pointing to the first clone, "drill the Marine Six Styles. Focus on Shave and Moon Walk. You," he said to the second, "analyze the Eighty Gods Vacuum Attack. Your only goal is to find a way to simplify its chakra structure. I can't use the Bloodline Limit it requires yet, so find a workaround."
The clones nodded and vanished to their assigned tasks. Shinra himself began his own regimen, focusing on physical conditioning and the development of his Sparkling Fruit abilities. While the clones could accelerate the learning of ninjutsu through shared experience, they couldn't build muscle memory or develop the unique energy of a Devil Fruit. That was a path he had to walk alone.
"Fortunately, I remember Kizaru's moves," he muttered, concentrating. Half of his right arm dissolved into a shimmering cascade of golden light. Full-body elementalization was still beyond him, a feat he estimated was ten days of dedicated practice away. Once achieved, he would be virtually untouchable in this era.
He theorized that Truth-Seeking Balls, Yin-Yang Release, or perhaps the gravitational pull of the Rinnegan could counter his elemental form. But for now, unless the hidden Uchiha Madara himself emerged, his potential invincibility was nearly absolute.
As he trained, he made a crucial discovery: he could use his chakra to fuel and shape the light-based powers of the light Fruit. The energy systems were compatible.
"Laser," he whispered, pointing a finger.
A beam of concentrated photons lanced forward, piercing cleanly through several tree trunks before striking a boulder the size of a man. The resulting BOOM shattered the rock into a cloud of dust and fragments.
"Tsk, tsk... Now that's power," Shinra mused, impressed. "Even a fully formed Rasengan couldn't match that raw, penetrating force." And this was just a basic emission. By gathering more photons, the destructive potential could be increased exponentially.
He spent the morning pushing the limits of his new fruit, until his body screamed for rest. He collapsed onto the grass, his chest heaving, and lay there for a full half-hour, allowing his Sage Body to work its restorative magic.
Finally, he dispelled the two shadow clones. A wave of mental fatigue washed over him—the price of their intensive research—but it was manageable with only two.
Ravenous, he pulled out two cans of beef and some dry rations. Placing them on a flat rock, he then drew a kunai. He flipped it deftly in his hand before hurling it with practiced ease. The blade streaked through the air, piercing a tree and finding its mark in a rabbit grazing a hundred meters away. With a subtle application of gravity control, he pulled the carcass to him, skinned it with efficient movements, and soon had it roasting over a small fire. A life of self-sufficiency had turned him into an expert forager and cook.
After his meal, he intensified his training. This time, he formed ten shadow clones. He assigned three to continue the grueling physical drills of the Six Styles and the remaining seven to the monumental task of deconstructing the Eighty Gods Vacuum Attack.
Shinra himself forwent the Sparkling Fruit for the afternoon, dedicating himself to pure, brutal physical exertion. Five hundred push-ups were just the warm-up. He then moved to a thick tree, its bark already worn smooth and scarred by countless prior impacts. His fists and feet became a blur of motion, each strike landing with a solid thwack that sent vibrations through the trunk. His knuckles split and bled, mingling with the sweat streaming down his face, but he did not stop. He believed, with every fiber of his being, that power was paid for in blood, sweat, and relentless effort.
As evening painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, he dispelled the clones. The feedback was a tidal wave of exhaustion, both physical and mental. Dragging his battered body home, his footsteps were heavy, but his spirit was not. The setting sun cast his long, tired shadow ahead of him, but his back remained straight.
Back in the solitude of his room, he inspected his hands. The split knuckles and bruises from his training were already knitting themselves back together, the flesh pink and new. This was the true blessing of the Sage Body, a regenerative power that seemed to belong to Senju Hashirama alone.
After a hot bath, he lay on his bed, not to sleep, but to meditate. His mind turned to a pressing problem: the acquisition of ninjutsu. The system's mall was a treasure trove, but its prices were prohibitive. He needed a more accessible source.
The Hyuga clan must have a repository of ninjutsu scrolls, he reasoned. They may specialize in the Gentle Fist, but they're not ignorant of other arts. The question is, how do I get access to them?
An irritating thought surfaced. "Now that I think of it, the clan still hasn't given me the standard Chakra Refinement Technique scroll. Have they truly written me off completely?"
He briefly entertained the idea of creating his own jutsu but dismissed it. He lacked the foundational knowledge; such an endeavor would be pure folly at this stage.
Frustrated, he let the matter drop. For now, he would rely on what he had. Sitting up, he crossed his legs and began the slow, rhythmic process of chakra refinement, drawing energy from every cell in his body. It was his final task of the day, a ritual of self-improvement. Only when his reserves were full and his mind was calm did he finally allow himself to slip into a deep, dreamless sleep, ready to face the same grueling cycle at dawn.