The air in Training Ground Seven crackled, the usual village hum fading as Ryuu faced Genma Shiranui. This wasn't an Academy spar, it was an initiation, a Jonin's piercing assessment of a new, unknown tool. Ryuu knew he couldn't win through conventional means. His goal was to demonstrate potential, a mind that could adapt, a will that wouldn't shatter.
Genma, senbon dancing between his lips, flowed forward with deceptive languor, his presence instantly dominating the dusty circle. Ryuu met the advance with practiced evasion, circling, trying to force a pattern. His initial attempts to disrupt Genma's footing with scattered kunai were dismissed with contemptuous ease.
"Predictable, Yuki," Genma commented, his voice mild, his eyes missing nothing. "Academy tricks won't cut it here."
He closed the distance instantly, a swift jab aimed at Ryuu's shoulder. Ryuu twisted, but Genma was too fast, his counter – a precise heel strike to Ryuu's shin – lancing pain up his leg. "Too slow," Genma stated calmly. "Underestimated me. I am not the Uchiha brat."
Gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain, Ryuu feinted a retreat, then lunged low, flinging a kunai upwards as a distraction. Genma let it sail past, his hand darting out to seize Ryuu's wrist in an iron grip. "Clever use of size," Genma mused, applying a painful twist. "But predictable."
Panic flared.
Ryuu reacted on raw instinct, channeling a desperate burst of chakra to his feet, pushing down hard, twisting his body violently. His wrist, slick with sweat, wrenched free. He didn't retreat. Too close. He rolled under Genma's arm, lashing out with a palm-heel strike to the back of Genma's knee. Thwack! Genma grunted, his knee buckling slightly. A flicker of genuine surprise crossed the Jonin's features.
Before Ryuu could even register the small success, Genma recovered with blinding speed, a sweeping kick forcing Ryuu to tumble backwards onto the dusty ground.
"Better," Genma conceded, standing over him, senbon back in place. "Unorthodox. Desperate. You committed." He tapped his knee. "Actually felt that one."
Ryuu pushed himself up, breathing heavily, his leg and wrist aching. He was outmatched. He needed something more, something to show he wasn't just flailing.
Genma advanced again, slower this time, his eyes predatory. The pressure was immense. Ryuu held his ground, his mind racing, his limited reserves screaming. As Genma entered optimal range, his hand shooting out in an open-palm strike, Ryuu didn't consciously decide what to do. His body, his instincts, his desperate need to not be hit again took over.
Instead of dodging or blocking, he met Genma's advancing forearm with both his small palms, pushing forward. He wasn't thinking about temperature control, wasn't trying to be subtle. He was thinking, Stop! Don't touch me!
A sudden, unnatural cold radiated from Ryuu's hands, far more intense than the slight chill he'd managed before.
It wasn't just his gloves feeling cold, it was a palpable wave of frigid energy. Tiny, almost invisible ice crystals didn't just form on Genma's forearm, they seemed to bloom for a fraction of a second, a delicate, razor-sharp tracery of frost that bit through the Jonin's sleeve, making him hiss in genuine surprise and pain. The cold wasn't just numbing, it was sharp, penetrating.
Genma's strike faltered, his arm jerking back instinctively from the unexpected, biting cold. His chakra flow in that limb stuttered, momentarily disrupted by the alien sensation.
It was the smallest of openings, born of Ryuu's unconscious, desperate surge of power. But it was enough. Ryuu, acting on pure reflex refined by Kasumi's drills, didn't even register what he'd done. He saw the opening, the fractional hesitation, and moved. He sidestepped cleanly, flowing past Genma's now mistimed strike, and with a surge of adrenaline, drove his elbow with all his meager strength upwards into Genma's exposed ribs.
THWUMP!
Genma grunted, a genuine sound of pain and surprise, stumbling back several steps, clutching his side. His eyes, wide and shocked, fixed on Ryuu. The senbon clattered to the dusty ground.
Ryuu stood panting, his own hands tingling with an unfamiliar, intense coldness, staring at the Jonin, a dawning horror mixing with the adrenaline. What had he just done? That wasn't just 'cold hands'. That was...
Silence descended, heavy and absolute. Genma straightened up slowly, rubbing his ribs, his gaze no longer casual or appraising, but sharp, focused, and utterly serious. He looked from Ryuu's pale, shocked face to his own forearm, where a faint redness was already appearing beneath his sleeve.
"Okay, kid," Genma said finally, his voice low, devoid of its earlier drawl. He picked up his fallen senbon, not placing it back in his mouth, but holding it between his fingers like a weapon. "That... was not an Academy technique." He took a deliberate step forward. "And those weren't just 'cold hands'." His eyes narrowed, a dangerous light flickering within them. "That was Ice Release."
Ryuu froze, his blood turning to, well, ice. Exposed. Utterly, undeniably exposed. Kasumi's warnings, her fear, his carefully constructed facade – all shattered in a single, desperate moment. His mind, usually a whirlwind of calculations and contingency plans, went terrifyingly blank for a full second.
How could he explain this? What could he possibly say?
The silence in Training Ground Seven stretched, taut and heavy, broken only by Ryuu's ragged breathing and the distant, indifferent chirp of a cicada.
Izumi Uchiha and Kenta Miyamoto, who had been observing the spar from a respectful distance, stood frozen as well, their young faces etched with a mixture of shock, confusion, and dawning awe. They had seen the unnatural frost bloom on their sensei's arm, had felt the sharp, localized drop in temperature, had witnessed Genma's genuine surprise and pain.
They didn't have Ryuu's future knowledge, but they were Academy graduates, they knew this wasn't a standard technique.
Kenta was the first to break the stunned silence, his voice a shaky whisper. "S-Sensei... what... what was that? Yuki-kun... did you...?" He couldn't even articulate the question, his eyes wide as he stared at Ryuu, then at Genma's forearm.
Izumi was more composed, but her Sharingan was still active and likely replaying the incident with unnerving clarity, were fixed on Ryuu with an intensity that made his skin crawl. The usual Uchiha analytical focus was there, but now it was tinged with something else – a sharp, almost hungry curiosity, the kind that dissected anomalies.
She knew about Kekkei Genkai.
Genma didn't take his eyes off Ryuu. He flexed the arm Ryuu had touched, a faint grimace tightening his lips. The initial shock of the biting cold was fading, but a deep, unnatural chill lingered in the limb. "Miyamoto, Uchiha," Genma said, his voice still low but carrying an edge that brooked no argument, "stay back. This assessment isn't quite over."
He took another deliberate step towards Ryuu, the fallen senbon still held like a scalpel between his fingers. "So, Yuki Ryuu. The quiet little refugee with 'cold hands'." His lips curved into that humorless smile again. "A rather potent manifestation for someone supposedly just learning basic chakra control. And remarkably precise, even if accidental. One might almost think you've had… prior training in its application."
Ryuu's mind finally kicked back into gear, racing through desperate calculations. Deny it? Impossible. Genma had felt it, seen it. Claim it was a one-time fluke, a stress reaction? Plausible for a child, but a Jonin like Genma wouldn't be easily fooled, not after the nature of the cold. He needed a story, something that fit the established narrative, something that minimized the danger.
Kasumi. He had to protect Kasumi.
"I... I don't know, Sensei," Ryuu managed, his voice small, trembling slightly – an act, but one fueled by genuine fear now. He kept his gaze downcast, feigning terror and confusion.
"It just... happened. When you grabbed my wrist... when I thought you were going to..." He let his voice trail off, implying fear of serious injury. "Sometimes... when I'm very scared... or very cold... things get... colder around me. Kaa-san said it was just... because I'm from a cold place. That my chakra is... sensitive to temperature."
It was a weak explanation, flimsy, but it was all he had. It tied into his existing cover story, acknowledged the coldness without admitting to deliberate Ice Release.
Genma's eyebrow arched. "Sensitive to temperature," he repeated slowly, drawing out the words, his skepticism palpable.
"Enough to leave frostbite-like marks on a Jonin's arm and disrupt his chakra flow, however briefly?" He took another step, closing the distance until he was towering over Ryuu.
The pressure of his presence, his powerful chakra, was immense. "Your mother, Kasumi Yuki. 'Hyōjin,' the Ice Blade of Kiri, some whispered during the war, though she was never officially listed as one of their Shinobi. A Yuki survivor. Known for her mastery of Ice Release. And you, her son, with 'cold hands' that manifest under pressure."
Ryuu felt his blood run even colder, if possible. Genma knew. He didn't just suspect Ice Release, he knew Kasumi's wartime moniker, her clan, her reputation.
This wasn't just an assessment anymore, it was an interrogation. Minato might have vouched for Kasumi, granted them asylum, but that didn't mean every Jonin in Konoha would blindly accept a refugee with a dangerous, potentially Kiri-linked Kekkei Genkai, especially one seemingly hidden from official Academy records.
"My mother... she just wants us to be safe," Ryuu whispered, focusing on the child persona, the frightened refugee. "She said... she said our blood was... dangerous. That we had to hide it. That people would... hurt us." Tears welled in his red eyes – genuine tears this time, born of the crushing weight of their situation, the fear of exposure, the terror of what Kiri did to those like them.
Izumi took a small, almost imperceptible step forward, her Sharingan still active, her expression conflicted. Ryuu caught the movement from the corner of his eye. Was it sympathy? Or just the Uchiha fascination with powerful, unique bloodlines?
Genma's gaze didn't soften, but the overt predatory glint lessened slightly, replaced by a grim, calculating assessment.
"Hiding a Kekkei Genkai of this potency within Konoha, even from the Academy instructors during evaluation... that's a serious omission, Yuki. Bordering on deception."
He crouched down, bringing himself closer to Ryuu's eye level. The senbon in his hand twitched.
"The Hokage granted you asylum based on your mother's past service and her current intel. He knows about her Yuki heritage, obviously. Does he know you can already manifest it? That it's not just latent potential, but active, however uncontrolled?"
Ryuu shook his head mutely, letting the tears spill over, playing the part of the terrified child caught in something far beyond his understanding. It wasn't entirely an act. He was terrified.
"Kaa-san said... I had to learn control first," he choked out. "She said... it was too dangerous to show anyone. She was afraid... they would take me away. Or... or hurt her because of me."
He looked up at Genma, his red eyes wide with feigned innocence and genuine fear. "Please, Sensei... don't tell anyone. Kaa-san... she'll be so scared."
The plea was designed to play on multiple levels – the fear of a child, the desperation of a protective mother, the implicit threat of Kiri persecution. He was banking on Genma's loyalty to Minato, his understanding of the precariousness of refugee situations, and perhaps even a sliver of professional empathy for a fellow shinobi (Kasumi) forced to make hard choices.
But Ryuu's main fear was Danzo.
Danzo loved indoctrinating kids to his root, especially kids with Kekkei Genkai. He was really stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Genma stared at him for a long, silent moment, his gaze unblinking, analytical. Ryuu could almost feel the Jonin's mind dissecting his words, his posture, his tears, searching for inconsistencies, for deception. The silence stretched, broken only by Kenta's nervous breathing and the distant rustle of leaves.
Izumi spoke, her voice quiet but firm, surprising Ryuu. "Sensei," she began, stepping forward slightly, "if Yuki-san's mother is truly Hyōjin of the Yuki clan... then their fear is understandable. The purges in Kirigakure... they are not just rumors. The Uchiha have... sources... that confirm the brutality." Her Sharingan flickered, a hint of shared understanding, perhaps, of clan persecution, or at least a professional acknowledgment of a dangerous political reality.
Genma glanced at Izumi, then back at Ryuu. Her intervention was unexpected, potentially helpful. An Uchiha vouching, however indirectly, for the reason for secrecy carried weight.
"The Hokage is aware of the dangers faced by the Yuki clan," Genma said slowly, his eyes still locked on Ryuu. "That is why he granted your mother asylum. But hiding active Kekkei Genkai manifestation from your direct Jonin instructor during an assessment... that undermines trust, Yuki. It complicates things."
He straightened up, towering over Ryuu again. "Your display just now," Genma continued, his voice regaining some of its earlier sharpness, "was uncontrolled, reactive, born of panic. But it was potent. Far more potent than any ten-year-old Academy graduate with 'sensitive chakra' has a right to produce accidentally." He paused, letting the words sink in.
"Your mother has clearly been training you in its suppression, perhaps even its rudimentary application, despite her fears. Why the secrecy from me?"
Ryuu looked down, feigning shame. "Kaa-san... she made me promise. She said... even in Konoha... not everyone understands. Not everyone is... safe." He was treading a dangerous line, implying distrust within Konoha itself, but it was a plausible fear for a refugee.
Genma let out a long, slow breath, running a hand through his spiky brown hair. The senbon between his fingers tapped a restless rhythm against his thigh. He looked at Izumi, then at Kenta (who still looked utterly bewildered by the entire exchange), then back at Ryuu.
"Alright, Yuki," he said finally, his tone shifting again, becoming less interrogative, more... considering. "Here's how it's going to be. Your little 'cold hands' incident just now? Officially, it was a surprising but ultimately harmless fluke caused by your unusual chakra sensitivity under extreme stress during a spar. You got lucky. I was momentarily distracted. You landed a lucky shot. That's the report that goes to the Academy, if anyone asks."
Ryuu felt a sliver of relief, but it was immediately tempered by Genma's next words.
"Unofficially," Genma continued, his eyes narrowing again, "you, me, and your mother are going to have a very long, very frank discussion with Hokage-sama. Soon. About the full extent of your abilities, your training, and exactly what 'Hyōjin no Kasumi' expects her son to become as a Konoha Genin." He looked directly at Ryuu.
"Because hiding an active, S-Rank potential Kekkei Genkai like Ice Release is not something Konoha takes lightly. Not even for the son of a wartime informant. Secrets like that have a way of getting people killed. Usually the ones keeping them."
He turned to Izumi and Kenta. "As for you two. What you saw here today, what you heard – particularly regarding Yuki's abilities and his mother's potential identity – does not leave this training ground. It is now classified S-Rank information, by my authority as your Jonin instructor. Discuss it with anyone, and you will face the full consequences. Understood?"
Izumi nodded sharply, her Sharingan finally deactivating, her expression serious, understanding the gravity. Kenta, looking terrified but resolute, stammered, "Y-yes, Sensei!"
"Good," Genma said curtly. The lazy confidence was back, but his eyes, when they rested on Ryuu, held a new, sharper, more calculating light. The assessment was indeed over. The real evaluation, however, had just begun.
"Alright, Team Twelve," Genma announced, his voice returning to its usual drawl, though the undercurrent of seriousness remained.
"Assessment complete. Miyamoto, you need to work on your anticipation and speed. Uchiha, refine your reactions, don't just rely on what the Sharingan feeds you, and watch your chakra drain. Yuki..." He paused, giving Ryuu a long, unreadable look.
"...Yuki, you and I have a lot to talk about. But for now... you all pass. Barely." He smirked. "Welcome to the glamorous life of a Konoha Genin. Report back here tomorrow, 0700. We start with D-ranks. Don't be late. And Yuki?"
Ryuu looked up.
"Try not to freeze any more of my limbs. It's surprisingly unpleasant." With a final, enigmatic smirk, Genma Shiranui vanished in a flicker of leaves, leaving Ryuu standing there with his stunned, silent teammates, the chilling implications of his exposed secret settling heavily upon his small shoulders.