The Root operatives moved with ruthless efficiency. By dusk, they had returned to collect all the prisoners, marking the official completion of Hoshita Shūichi's team's mission.
Though night had fallen, Namikaze Minato decided to set out for Konoha immediately. Before departing, however, he turned to his three students with a challenge.
"Consider this a small test," Minato said, his blue eyes glinting under the moonlight. "I'll leave first. Thirty minutes later, you'll follow—but you must accurately track my trail."
Shūichi, Uchiha Shisui, and Kurama Sanyō exchanged glances before nodding in unison. "Understood, Sensei."
With a faint smile, Minato vanished into the forest.
Half an hour later, the trio began their pursuit.
Unless Minato used the Flying Thunder God Technique, his movements would leave traces—especially in dense woodland where shinobi relied on tree branches for leverage. Shūichi and his teammates followed these subtle marks, their eyes sharp and senses honed.
Five minutes in, they halted.
Before them, the trail split into four distinct paths.
"Three Shadow Clones..." Sanyō scratched his head, frustrated. In the darkness, distinguishing the real Minato's trail from the decoys was nearly impossible.
"Should we split up?" he suggested. "Each of us takes a path, plus one Shadow Clone."
Both he and Shisui had mastered the Shadow Clone Jutsu, but Shisui shook his head. "Our clones won't last as long as Sensei's. By the time we realize we're wrong, it'll be too late."
Shūichi agreed. Instead, he knelt and pressed his fingers against the faint impressions left on a branch. Shisui mirrored his actions, analyzing the markings with his Sharingan.
After a moment, Sanyō crouched beside them. "Well? Any differences?"
Shisui smirked at Shūichi. "What do you think?"
Shūichi pointed to the leftmost trail. "Sensei was careful, but the duration of his pauses varies. The leftmost marks are slightly deeper—almost imperceptibly so."
Sanyō frowned, running his fingers over the bark again. "I still can't tell."
Shisui chuckled. "Shūichi, you've got a real talent for tracking. I only noticed because of my Sharingan's precision, and even then, I wasn't certain."
Sanyō hesitated. "So... left? Isn't that risky?"
Shisui's expression turned firm. "We should trust our instincts."
Shūichi nodded. "Left it is."
Ten minutes later, they faced another fork—this time with only two trails. But the differences were even subtler.
Minato had clearly anticipated their methods. He'd likely sent a Shadow Clone ahead while his real body lingered, ensuring both trails bore nearly identical wear.
After scouting both paths briefly, Shisui reported, "The right one leads to a river."
Shūichi didn't hesitate. "Then we go right."
Sanyō agreed. "Rivers mask scents and blood—perfect for shaking off trackers."
Konoha's Inuzuka clan and their ninken were proof of how vital scent could be in pursuit.
The trio followed the rightward trail until they reached the riverbank. There, they split up—Shūichi upstream, Shisui downstream, and Sanyō crossing to the opposite shore.
Minutes later, they regrouped.
"He doubled back downstream," Shūichi realized.
Minato had looped around, exploiting their assumptions.
The chase stretched on, a grueling test of endurance and wit. At times, the trail vanished entirely, forcing them to fan out and search. By the time they glimpsed Konoha's gates, exhaustion weighed on their limbs.
Then, atop a branch, Minato appeared, grinning.
"Perfect. You chose correctly every time."
Though their pace had been slow, their accuracy proved their skill. Unbeknownst to them, a Shadow Clone had tailed them the entire way, observing their deductions.
Shūichi exhaled in relief, his body aching but his mind alight with satisfaction. The night's trial had honed his tracking instincts, sharpened further by Shisui's Sharingan and Sanyō's analytical approach.
Talent realized. Lessons absorbed. Experience gained.
A triple victory.
Minato clapped his hands. "Alright, back to the village. Rest well—we regroup tomorrow at the usual spot."
After a long bath and a hearty breakfast, Shūichi reviewed the mission and the night's pursuit before collapsing into bed. He woke at 2 PM, refreshed, and headed straight for Ichiraku Ramen.
Bowl emptied, he made his way to Konoha Hospital.
"Shūichi?" Yakushi Nonō's voice was warm with surprise.
"Director!" He bowed slightly. "We returned this morning. I've already rested."
Nonō's smile softened. "Good. Come with me—Lady Tsunade is here for a consultation."
Shūichi's eyes lit up. Tsunade's presence was rare, given her hemophobia.
Could Genjutsu treat a psychological fear like that?
By 4:30 PM, Shūichi left the hospital and headed to his team's usual training grounds.
There, dangling from a cliff face, was a familiar figure.
Kakashi.
It was their first meeting since graduation.
Time for a rematch.
As Kakashi landed, Shūichi called out, "Kakashi—hope you haven't slacked off."
Kakashi's visible eye crinkled with amusement. "Try me."
Unlike his usual taunts toward Uchiha Obito, Kakashi respected Shūichi's discipline. Words were unnecessary; their fists would speak.
Ten minutes later, the two clashed midair, fists meeting in a shockwave of force.
In that instant, both recognized the other's growth.
Kakashi knew Shūichi's reflexes and memory were exceptional—he'd recall every past spar. So Kakashi fought faster, harder, refusing to fall into predictable patterns.
The rhythm of their battle crescendoed—from the river's surface to the cliffside, where they scaled the rock face as effortlessly as if it were flat ground.
By the time Shizune, Might Guy, Yūhi Kurenai, and Sarutobi Asuma arrived, the two were a blur of motion, their duel a testament to relentless training.
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