The walk from the Hokage's office back to Training Ground Seven felt like a condemned man's final mile.
Ryuu's carefully constructed facade had been pierced, his most dangerous secret laid bare. Now, he was being asked to willingly display the very power Kasumi had drilled into him to suppress, under the watchful eyes of Konoha's highest authorities. The irony was a bitter taste in his mouth.
Genma led him to the center of the dusty clearing, the afternoon sun beginning its slow descent, casting long, skeletal shadows from the surrounding trees. Izumi and Kenta were gone, dismissed after their own assessments. It was just Ryuu and his new Jonin sensei.
"Alright, Yuki Ryuu," Genma said, his voice devoid of its earlier casualness, replaced by a focused, professional tone that brooked no evasion. He wasn't holding his senbon, his hands were relaxed at his sides, but his entire being radiated a coiled readiness. "Hokage-sama wants a true measure. No holding back. No Academy tricks. No feigned weakness. Show me your Ice Release. Show me everything 'Hyōjin's son' can actually do when he's not trying to hide."
Ryuu met Genma's sharp, assessing gaze. There was no room for misdirection here, no benefit in feigning incompetence. He had been ordered to go all out. He took a deep, centering breath, the crisp autumn air cool in his lungs. This was it. He would show them a fraction of the Yuki clan's legacy, a glimpse of the potential thrumming within his small, inadequate frame.
He performed the Seal of Confrontation, his small hand surprisingly steady as it met Genma's. The Jonin's grip was firm, a silent acknowledgment that the rules of engagement had changed.
"Begin when ready," Genma stated simply, taking a defensive stance a few meters away.
Ryuu didn't waste a moment on preliminary Taijutsu. He immediately began weaving hand seals, his small fingers moving with a practiced, if still slightly unrefined, dexterity.
Dog → Bird → Tiger → Boar → Ox → Dog
"Hyōton: Sensatsu Suishō!" (Ice Release: Thousand Flying Water Needles of Death)
His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but the effect was anything but. The temperature around him plummeted visibly. Moisture condensed rapidly from the air, not into clumsy spears this time, but into hundreds, then thousands, of razor-sharp, perfectly formed ice senbon, each no bigger than a sewing needle. They hung suspended in the air around him for a breathtaking instant, before he thrust his hands forward.
This was originally a B-rank jutsu, but with Ryuu's current strength it was barely C-rank.
The cloud of ice needles surged towards Genma with incredible speed and a terrifying, high-pitched whine.
Genma's eyes widened fractionally. He moved instantly, blurring through hand seals of his own.
"Doton: Doryūheki!" (Earth Release: Earth-Style Wall)
A thick, solid wall of earth erupted from the ground in front of Genma just as the ice needles struck. Hundreds of senbon slammed into the earthen barrier, chipping away at its surface, embedding themselves deeply, the sheer number and velocity creating a sound like a hailstorm against stone.
A few needles, finding weaker points or ricocheting at odd angles, shot past the edges of the wall, forcing Genma to make minute, lightning-fast adjustments to his position, his senbon flicking out to deflect a particularly troublesome stray.
The assault lasted only a few seconds, but it left the earthen wall looking like a pincushion, testament to the jutsu's deadly potential. Ryuu panted slightly, the chakra cost was significant, far more than anything he usually expended, but the focused execution felt surprisingly natural, like an instinct he hadn't known he possessed so fully.
"Not bad, kid," Genma called out from behind the crumbling wall, his voice tight with something that might have been genuine surprise. "Definitely not what I expected. Do you have anything stronger?"
Ryuu didn't answer. He was already moving, channeling chakra again, his mind racing through the limited repertoire of Yuki clan techniques Kasumi had demonstrated in their most secret, desperate training sessions, techniques he had practiced only in his mind or in minute, concealed forms.
He needed to show versatility, control, not just raw, albeit limited, power.
As Genma kicked through the remnants of the earth wall, Ryuu performed another sequence of seals, this time more complex, requiring greater concentration. He focused on the moisture in the air, on the concept of reflection, of illusion, of inescapable pursuit.
"Hyōton: Makyō Hyōshō!" (Ice Release: Demonic Mirroring Ice Crystals)
With a surge of cold chakra, several large, flat, perfectly smooth mirrors made of dark, almost black ice began to form in a circular pattern around Genma. They shimmered unnaturally, reflecting not just Genma's image, but multiple, slightly distorted versions of him, making it difficult to discern his true position.
Genma paused, his head tilting as he assessed the strange jutsu. He tapped one of the ice mirrors cautiously with a kunai. It rang with a hard, crystalline sound. "Illusions? Or something more?"
Before Ryuu could answer, his image suddenly appeared within one of the mirrors directly behind Genma. He lashed out from the reflection with a practice kunai – not the real Ryuu, but a perfectly formed ice clone, moving with his speed and intent.
Genma spun, deflecting the ice clone's attack effortlessly, shattering it into a shower of glittering shards. But as he did, Ryuu's image appeared in another mirror, then another, each launching a swift, coordinated attack. It was a disorienting, multi-directional assault, designed to overwhelm an opponent's senses, forcing them to defend against multiple threats simultaneously.
"Clever," Genma grunted, moving in a blur, his senbon flashing as he parried and shattered ice clones emerging from the reflective surfaces. He wasn't struggling, but he was clearly being forced to expend more effort, his movements becoming sharper, faster, losing their earlier casualness. "A a defensive and offensive illusionary jutsu. Complex. Chakra intensive, I imagine, for you."
Ryuu didn't respond, focusing all his concentration on maintaining the Demonic Ice Mirrors and directing the attacks of his fleeting ice clones. He could feel his reserves dwindling rapidly. This jutsu, while powerful, was incredibly taxing for his young body and limited chakra pool. He wouldn't be able to maintain it for long.
Genma enhanced his attacks with chakra, quickly destroying a few of the mirrors. Realizing that they couldn't hold him anymore, Ryuu stopped maintaining the jutsu.
With a final mental command, he allowed the Demonic Ice Mirrors to dissolve into a swirling mist of ice particles, momentarily obscuring Genma's vision. In that brief window, Ryuu focused his remaining chakra into his right hand. He didn't think of specific jutsu names, he thought of form, of function, of cold, hard lethality.
The moisture in the air, augmented by the dissipating ice mist, condensed rapidly around his small fist. Not into senbon this time, but into something larger, more substantial. A blade of translucent, pale blue ice began to form, extending from his knuckles, growing longer, curving slightly, taking on the rudimentary shape of a short, one-handed scythe. It was barely a foot long, imperfect, the ice perhaps slightly cloudy in places, but it was undeniably a weapon, radiating an intense, biting cold.
As the mist cleared, Genma saw Ryuu standing there, panting heavily, his small frame trembling with exertion, but his red eyes blazing with focused intensity, the miniature ice scythe held ready in a surprisingly steady grip.
Genma's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Weapon manifestation. Not just projecting ice, but shaping it directly, instinctively, into a usable weapon. This was a hallmark of high-level Yuki clan mastery, something rarely seen even among their most skilled members.
"Interesting." Genma murmured, a slow, dangerous smile touching his lips again, the senbon held loosely between his fingers.
Ryuu didn't reply. He was almost completely drained. He could barely hold the ice scythe steady. He had shown what he could do, what he was capable of learning to do. The rest was up to them.
Genma took a single, deliberate step forward. He wasn't attacking, just observing, assessing the exhausted child and the crudely formed but undeniably real ice weapon. He looked from the scythe to Ryuu's determined, panting face.
"Alright, Yuki Ryuu," Genma said finally, his voice softer now, but with an undercurrent of something Ryuu couldn't quite decipher. "That's enough. You've... demonstrated." He gestured for Ryuu to lower the ice scythe. "Dispel it. Carefully."
Ryuu nodded, focusing his remaining will. With a visible effort, the ice scythe shimmered, then slowly dissolved into a puddle of frigid water at his feet, leaving his hand numb and trembling. He swayed, his vision blurring at the edges. Chakra exhaustion was hitting him hard.
Genma was beside him in an instant, his earlier predatory aura gone, replaced by the concerned professionalism of a Jonin sensei. He caught Ryuu's arm before he could collapse. "Easy there, kid. Pushed yourself too hard. Way too hard for your age." He supported Ryuu's weight, guiding him to sit on the dusty ground.
"Report to the Hokage's office with your mother tomorrow morning, 0800 sharp," Genma said, his tone back to its usual dry drawl, though his eyes remained fixed on Ryuu with that new, calculating intensity. "Seems Team Twelve's training curriculum just got a lot more... specialized. And a hell of a lot more classified."
"Hokage-sama is going to have a field day with this. Though this kid will have one hell of a bad time with the rest." He shook his head, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips.
"Kid, you are going to be a monumental headache. And maybe, just maybe, one hell of a shinobi."
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Silence hung heavy in the Hokage's office, thick with unspoken thoughts and the lingering chill projected by the crystal ball showing the now-empty Training Ground Seven.
Minato stood with his back to the room, gazing out the panoramic window at the village bathed in the soft hues of twilight. Hiruzen sat quietly in his chair, slowly puffing on his pipe, his wise old eyes clouded with complex emotions. Kasumi stood rigidly near the door, her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles were white, her face pale and strained, having watched her son reveal the very abilities she had risked everything to conceal.
Minato finally turned, his usual warm expression replaced by the cool, calculating mask of the Fourth Hokage evaluating a volatile new asset. His blue eyes met Kasumi's terrified gaze.
"He exceeded expectations," Minato stated simply, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable edge. "'Accidental manifestation under stress' does not cover Sensatsu Suishō or Makyō Hyōshō, Kasumi-san. Nor does it explain instinctive weapon manifestation, however rudimentary. That required conscious control, focused intent, and knowledge of Yuki clan techniques far beyond 'basic control exercises'."
Kasumi flinched, lowering her gaze. "Hokage-sama... I... I taught him only the fundamentals of control, of suppression. The forms... perhaps they are instinctual? Blood memory? He is Yuki..." Her voice trailed off, the explanation sounding weak even to her own ears.
"Instinct?" Hiruzen interjected softly, tapping his pipe stem against the desk. "Perhaps. Kekkei Genkai work in mysterious ways. But instinct honed by practice, surely. The fluency of those hand seals, the shaping of the ice mirrors, the immediate formation of a weapon, however crude... that speaks of deliberate training, Kasumi-san. Your training, meticulously hidden."
Kasumi visibly trembled now, unable to meet either Hokage's eyes. The carefully constructed dam of her composure was breaking. "I... I was afraid," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Afraid of what Konoha might do if they knew. Afraid of Danzo-sama's... interest... in unique abilities. Afraid of Orochimaru, should word ever reach him. Afraid Kiri would somehow find out. I only wanted to protect him, to teach him enough control to hide it, not to wield it!"
Minato walked around his desk, stopping directly in front of her. His shadow fell over her, imposing, authoritative. "Your fear, while perhaps stemming from harsh experience, led you to deliberately deceive me, your son's Jonin instructor, and by extension, this village which granted you sanctuary," he stated coldly.
"You withheld critical information about an active, S-Rank potential Kekkei Genkai operating within our walls, under our protection. You trained him in secret, teaching him techniques associated with Kirigakure, your former allegiance, while claiming simple refugee status."
Each word was a precisely aimed blow, dismantling Kasumi's defenses. She looked up, tears finally spilling from her dark violet eyes.
"My loyalty is to Konoha now, Hokage-sama! Hyōjin died when I fled Kiri! I risked everything to bring that intel during the war because I believed Konoha offered something better! I hid Ryuu's potential because the shinobi world devours children like him! Look what happened to the Uzumaki! Look what Kiri does! I just wanted him to have a chance at a life, not just be seen as a weapon!"
Minato's expression remained unyielding, though a flicker of something – understanding? Pity? – might have crossed Hiruzen's eyes behind his smoke screen. "Loyalty requires trust, Kasumi-san," Minato said quietly. "And trust requires honesty. You broke that trust."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "However," he continued, his tone shifting slightly, becoming pragmatic, "what's done is done. Your son possesses a rare and powerful ability. Hiding it further is counterproductive and, frankly, impossible now that Genma-sensei knows. An uncontrolled or poorly trained Kekkei Genkai user is a danger to himself and everyone around him. A controlled, loyal one is a valuable asset to Konoha."
He leaned closer, his blue eyes sharp. "You will continue his training, Kasumi-san. But not in secret. You will liaise directly with Genma-sensei, developing a curriculum focused on control, precision, and integrating his Ice Release safely and effectively into Konoha's standard shinobi practices. His development will be closely monitored. His loyalty will be nurtured."
He straightened up. "His Kekkei Genkai remains classified S-Rank. Its use outside authorized training or mission parameters is forbidden. Any deviation will have severe consequences."
Kasumi nodded mutely, relief warring with apprehension. It wasn't the worst-case scenario. They weren't being imprisoned, separated, or handed over to Danzo. But the price was clear: complete oversight, forced integration, Ryuu becoming an official asset of the village.
Minato wasn't finished. His gaze hardened again. "There is also the matter of ensuring... continued cooperation. And mitigating flight risks, should Kiri ever attempt to reclaim their 'lost asset' or should your own fears overcome your stated loyalty."
He made a subtle hand sign, almost too quick to see. From the shadows in the corner of the office, an ANBU operative wearing a blank mask materialized silently. Kasumi tensed, her eyes widening in renewed fear.
"This is merely a precaution, Kasumi-san," Minato said, his voice devoid of warmth now. "A standard security measure for high-value assets with potentially conflicting past allegiances, especially those who have demonstrated a capacity for deception." He nodded to the ANBU.
The ANBU operative stepped forward, holding a small, intricate sealing scroll. "Kasumi Yuki," the ANBU's voice was toneless, "by order of the Hokage, you will accept the placement of a secondary security seal."
Kasumi stared in horror, understanding dawning. Not a punishment seal, perhaps, but a Cursed Seal – likely one keyed to Minato or specific ANBU commanders, capable of causing pain, paralysis, or even death if she acted against Konoha's interests or attempted unauthorized departure. It was a leash, elegantly applied.
"Hokage-sama, please..." Kasumi began, desperation flooding her voice.
"It is non-negotiable," Minato stated flatly. "A consequence of broken trust. Consider it a... reinforcement... of your commitment to Konoha's safety, and your son's."
His eyes were cold steel. "It ensures you remain where your skills, and your son's potential, can best serve the village that shelters you." He wasn't being cruel, he was being a Hokage, prioritizing village security above all else, especially after the betrayal he'd suffered from Obito.
Trust was a luxury he could no longer fully afford, especially with someone possessing Kasumi's skills and secrets. He also knew the FTG marker he'd subtly placed on her when she first arrived wasn't enough, a Cursed Seal offered a more immediate, visceral level of control.
Hiruzen watched the exchange silently, his expression troubled but resigned. He likely disagreed with the necessity of the Cursed Seal, preferring methods built on trust and the Will of Fire, but he understood Minato's pragmatic reasoning, especially given the circumstances of the Kyuubi attack and Kasumi's deliberate concealment. This was Minato's era, his decision.
Tears streamed down Kasumi's face, but she knew resistance was futile. She slowly, numbly, presented her arm to the ANBU operative, who swiftly applied the seal with a flare of chakra, the intricate black markings sinking into her skin before fading from view, leaving only a faint tingling sensation and the crushing weight of her compromised freedom.
"The seal is dormant unless activated," Minato explained coolly. "Compliance ensures it remains so. Now," his tone shifted back to brisk efficiency, "your new duties regarding Ryuu's training under Genma-sensei's oversight begin immediately. You will coordinate on a curriculum tomorrow. You are dismissed."
Kasumi bowed stiffly, unable to speak, and practically stumbled out of the office, heading towards were Ryuu was with shocking speed.
Minato watched them go, his expression unreadable. He turned to Hiruzen. "A necessary precaution, sensei. Danzo will learn of the boy's abilities eventually, despite the classification. Having Kasumi firmly bound to Konoha prevents him from easily exploiting her or using the boy against us. It also provides leverage should Kiri ever make a move."
Hiruzen sighed, puffing smoke. "Seals born of distrust often breed resentment, Minato. Be cautious."
"I am always cautious, sensei," Minato replied, turning back to the window, his gaze sweeping over the village lights flickering on below. "Especially now."