"By the way, Kakashi, let's spar one more time before you leave," Akira said with a confident smile.
The two had already sparred while practicing Lightning Release. At that time, they were evenly matched. Akira's Fire Release was on par with Kakashi's Lightning Release, and with Akira's Sharingan and Kakashi's incredible speed, the balance was always razor-thin.
In fact, Kakashi's fighting style reminded Akira a lot of Shisui Uchiha—fast, precise, and overwhelming. But Kakashi was more refined, more experienced. Compared to Shisui, Kakashi had the edge.
Akira had noted a pattern: whenever he won, it was thanks to his superior chakra reserves and stamina. When he lost, it was because of Kakashi's sheer speed.
But now, Akira had something new—he had begun to grasp the Lightning Release Body Flicker Technique. It wasn't perfect yet, but he could temporarily boost his speed enough to cover his previous weakness.
Hearing the request, Kakashi tilted his head in curiosity. He remembered the first time they sparred. Back then, he had underestimated Akira, thinking the young prodigy—only six years old at the time—would be no match.
After all, at age six, Kakashi had already become a Chūnin. Even if Akira was as gifted, he should be at most Chūnin level now. Kakashi himself was already close to elite Jōnin level.
But when Akira unveiled his Three-Tomoe Sharingan, Kakashi had been stunned.
His old teammate, Obito Uchiha, had dreamed of awakening that eye. At twelve, Obito didn't even have a single tomoe. Yet Akira, half that age, had already reached the Sharingan's full form.
If Obito ever learned of this, he'd probably collapse from the shame.
During their fight, Kakashi quickly realized Akira's chakra reserves were nearly double his own—something he already suspected. But what shocked him more was Akira's battle instinct. It was honed, sharp, like someone who had survived life-and-death struggles.
Akira copied Kakashi's Lightning Release techniques mid-fight using his Sharingan, turning Kakashi's own arsenal against him. Kakashi found himself in a tight spot, forced to fight against a version of himself that had more chakra and could read his moves.
Still, he managed to hold on, as always. Kakashi had a way of pulling out a 50-50 outcome even in the most lopsided battles.
Eventually, neither could overwhelm the other, and the fight ended in a draw. Kakashi had secretly decided not to continue sparring too often—he didn't want Akira learning any more of his techniques.
Now, Akira wanted a rematch. And with the Lightning Release Body Flicker Technique at his disposal, he clearly believed he could finally tip the scale.
Kakashi raised an eyebrow. Did Akira forget that he also knew the technique?
Akira caught the look but smirked. Though they had developed the technique together, they specialized in different styles. Akira used a sustained, low-output version to maintain speed for longer durations, minimizing bodily strain. Kakashi, with his lower chakra reserves, focused on high-output bursts for explosive speed.
They were both curious now. Which path was stronger?
And so, they clashed once more.
Akira activated his Lightning Release Stimulation Technique immediately, gaining the edge. With the speed gap closed and his massive chakra reserves backing him, he was finally on the offensive.
Kakashi, however, played defensively. He analyzed. Adapted. Countered. Though Akira's raw speed and power had improved, his close-quarters taijutsu remained lackluster. Kakashi exploited that, avoiding major damage while searching for an opening.
As the fight wore on, Akira's body began to show signs of strain. His technique, still imperfect, taxed him with prolonged use. To avoid burnout, Akira dialed down the lightning transformation, reducing the pressure—and his speed.
Kakashi sensed the shift. His moment had come.
Forming hand seals, Kakashi unleashed a half-finished Chidori. Lightning surged through his arm and across his body. His speed surged.
He lunged.
Akira saw the incoming strike through the Sharingan—but his body was too slow to respond. Kakashi was too fast.
He refused to lose. Not like this.
In that instant, Akira tapped into the unexplored potential of his dōjutsu. For the first time, he used his Sharingan's genjutsu capability in battle.
Kakashi, staring directly at Akira, was caught.
His body froze mid-strike. The lightning around him flickered out.
Akira exhaled.
Victory.
He released the genjutsu, and Kakashi blinked, staring at him with a mix of resentment and disbelief.
Akira scratched his head awkwardly. "Okay... that might've been a bit cheap."
Kakashi frowned, annoyed. He knew he had the upper hand until that final moment. But what could he say? It was a legitimate use of the Sharingan.
He couldn't help but feel envious. Akira not only had incredible chakra and battle instincts, but also a rare bloodline limit that gave him an enormous edge.
Kakashi sighed. If only he had the Sharingan...
With it, he would've copied thousands of jutsu by now.
But Kakashi also knew: bloodline or not, it was still a ninja's heart, resolve, and cunning that truly made the difference—and Akira had all three.
After saying goodbye to Kakashi, Akira immediately dove into refining his Ninja Body Technique.
Though his farewell with Kakashi was lighthearted, Akira had made a bold claim. If Kakashi returned and his technique still wasn't perfected, he'd be the one embarrassed. That alone was motivation enough.
Over the last four months, Akira had made tremendous progress across all disciplines.
His Fire Release, already formidable, reached near-Jonin proficiency alongside his deepening mastery of Lightning Release nature transformation. By the following month, even while focusing on Lightning Release development, his Fire Release techniques became even more refined and efficient.
More impressively, his genjutsu had taken a massive leap forward. The Illusion Body—a powerful Yin Release technique tied to his Sharingan—had drastically enhanced his genjutsu capabilities. Once his weakest area, genjutsu had become one of his greatest assets. His Three-Tomoe Sharingan amplified this even further, placing his genjutsu prowess above most Jonin-level specialists.
It may have sounded exaggerated, but when one realized Illusion Body was a Mangekyō-class dojutsu, Akira's dominance below Kage level wasn't far-fetched at all.
However, taijutsu remained his glaring weakness. Even with chakra-enhanced stamina and body reinforcement, Akira's taijutsu barely reached elite Chunin level. For someone whose ninjutsu and genjutsu neared Kage-tier strength, this was practically a joke.
If he took his time, he could likely reach Jonin-level taijutsu by age ten, thanks to Birch's body-enhancement method. But Akira didn't have time. His current taijutsu gap was already impeding his development of new techniques.
Specifically, he was stuck on designing the chakra flow circuit for the Ninja Body Technique. Taijutsu wasn't just about raw physicality—understanding how to guide and release chakra through one's body efficiently was essential. Without that foundation, his new technique couldn't be completed.
The idea behind the Ninja Body Technique was simple: use Lightning Release chakra to temporarily boost physical strength and speed, compensating for his age and smaller stature. He and Kakashi had already laid the groundwork, but tailoring the chakra path to work optimally required refined taijutsu experience.
And that was where he was lacking.
Frustrated, Akira reflected on his options. The Uchiha Clan had very few taijutsu specialists. Most relied on the Sharingan, which allowed them to mimic movements instead of developing body-based combat skills through discipline.
Only one person came to mind—Might Guy.
Though Guy was just a newly promoted Chunin, Akira remembered him as a passionate, taijutsu-driven ninja. He wasn't yet the legendary taijutsu master of the future, but if anyone could help, it was Guy.
Finding Guy was easy. As long as one wandered through Konoha's training fields, Guy was sure to appear. Luckily, Guy had just returned from a mission and was back to his usual intense training regimen.
Akira found him mid-routine, drenched in sweat, his eyes red and puffy.
"Guy... are you still practicing that eye training thing?" Akira asked, eye twitching.
Guy perked up immediately upon seeing him. "Akira! I've been blinking 50,000 times a day, just like you and Kakashi suggested! But I haven't seen any results yet. Am I doing something wrong?!"
Akira cringed. He hadn't thought Guy would take the joke so seriously. Worried the training might actually damage his eyes, Akira quickly said, "Guy, maybe this method just isn't right for you. You should stop before you hurt yourself."
Guy's face fell. So it wasn't that he was doing it wrong—he simply didn't have the talent. Was the gap between him and geniuses like Kakashi and Akira really that wide?
Sensing his disappointment, Akira quickly added, "But there are many ways to enhance eyesight, Guy. Not everyone becomes strong by the same path. I know you'll find your own way."
Guy's spirit flared again. "You're right, Akira! Even if I can't win with talent, I can win with effort! I won't lose to anyone!"
Akira chuckled inwardly. That was the Might Guy he knew.
"By the way, Akira, what brings you here?" Guy asked.
Akira got to the point. "I want to learn taijutsu from you. Will you train me?"
Guy blinked. "Me? But aren't you a genius with ninjutsu? I saw you and Kakashi working on a new technique not long ago. Why come to me? Don't the Uchiha have stronger fighters than me?"
Akira sighed. "That's just it. Most of them rely on the Sharingan. They don't train taijutsu like you do. I need real taijutsu fundamentals, and you're the only one I know who has them."
Guy didn't fully understand the technical parts of Akira's Ninja Body Technique, but he was fired up at the idea of helping a friend.
"Of course I'll train you, Akira! But my regimen is brutal. If you can't keep up, I won't hold back."
Akira promised he could handle anything. To develop his technique, he was ready to endure whatever it took.
But after just half a day of training, Akira began to regret it.
He had severely underestimated the intensity of Guy's daily workouts.
Sure, he had endured grueling ninjutsu and genjutsu practice. But taijutsu was a different beast entirely. The physical toll, the nonstop drills, the body conditioning—all of it pushed his limits in ways he hadn't anticipated.
He gritted his teeth. He had said he could endure anything.
Now, it was time to prove it.