Uchiha Hayashi sat alone at the training ground, his young face calm but determined.
In his hand, a ball of unstable chakra swirled, glowing faintly before dissipating into the air. With deliberate focus, he controlled the flow, dividing it into five thin strands. Each strand slipped precisely into the small openings carved into five kunai laid out in front of him.
Hayashi exhaled slowly. He had just completed the fourth stage of his chakra control training.
Most shinobi were only taught the basics: tree climbing and water walking. Effective, yes, but too rough to develop true precision. Hayashi had already mastered those exercises long ago. Since then, he had been refining his control, focusing on using smaller amounts of chakra for ninjutsu, gradually sharpening his skill.
For a long time, Hayashi believed his precision was already impressive for his age. But Tsunade had shown him otherwise.
Her method pushed him further, forcing him to divide a chakra sphere into multiple streams and channel them into narrow spaces with perfect accuracy. Now, with each success, Hayashi realized he was using far less chakra to release jutsu of the same strength. Even his genjutsu became more subtle and difficult to detect.
This was no small feat for someone who had only recently turned six.
Gathering chakra once more, Hayashi formed a glowing sphere in his palm. This time, he added a new element to the exercise. Placing a leaf into the orb, he tried to maintain stability. Almost instantly, the leaf was shredded by the wild internal currents.
"Failed," Hayashi muttered under his breath.
He tried again, carefully releasing chakra while placing another leaf into the orb. The leaf spun within the sphere, its edges trembling as he tried to control the flow. For a moment it held, but then the current twisted, and the leaf crumbled once more.
Half an hour passed. Broken leaves scattered around him, yet the chakra ball in his hand rotated with increasing steadiness. Hayashi smiled faintly. Though far from perfect, his progress in such a short time was remarkable.
This stage was about one thing: directing the flow of chakra. Normally, chakra surged randomly like a violent storm, difficult to tame. But shinobi with great precision could shape its movement, forcing it into a controlled, regular pattern.
In truth, this training was close to the very first step toward forming the Rasengan.
Hayashi didn't know the details of how the Fourth Hokage had created the technique, but he suspected it began with exercises like this. Perhaps Minato had drawn inspiration from the Tailed Beast Ball and refined it through countless trials.
Of course, mastering a jutsu and creating one from scratch were two very different things. Talented shinobi like Naruto or Sasuke had learned A-rank techniques as Genin simply by following instructions, but that did not suddenly make them overwhelmingly strong. Their ranks remained what they were.
Developing a jutsu from nothing, however, was another matter. It required constant innovation, experimentation, and failure. That process was what elevated Minato to the level of a top-tier shinobi, not merely the jutsu itself.
Hayashi understood this. Learning the Rasengan directly would not give him the same growth. More importantly, his current chakra reserves were nowhere near enough to sustain an A-rank technique. He was, after all, still just a child.
By the time he ended his training, the sun was dipping low in the sky, painting Konoha in golden twilight. He had been at it from midmorning until nearly evening.
Hayashi packed up his tools, dusted himself off, and sighed softly. He had been staying at Tsunade's home recently, though not exactly living with her. The mansion was large, with many empty rooms, and she had generously offered him a place to stay during his training.
Still, life with Tsunade was far from peaceful.
Over the past few days, she had launched dozens of sudden sneak attacks on him. What began as obvious attempts soon became unpredictable and cunning. A tuft of grass turning into Tsunade, explosive tags hidden beneath his bedding—she spared no effort in her "training."
Hayashi shook his head.
Tsunade called it cultivating vigilance. To him, it felt more like torment. No wonder her younger brother, Nawaki, had such a carefree and slightly airheaded demeanor. Growing up under constant ambush and pranks, how could he not?
Despite his complaints, Hayashi couldn't deny that her methods had sharpened him. His awareness, his ability to anticipate traps, even his skill at escaping—each had improved drastically. Though he wouldn't say his raw strength had grown much in just a week, his precision and adaptability had reached a new level.
Creeping quietly back into his room, Hayashi let out a relieved sigh. Tsunade wasn't home tonight. Sometimes she disappeared for entire nights, claiming it was to give him proper rest. But Hayashi knew the truth: she was out gambling again, probably with money she had somehow managed to swindle.
He had once kept some money for himself, but on the very first night, Tsunade had searched his pockets while he slept and taken it all. As if to rub salt into the wound, she'd left a miniature explosive tag hidden in his blanket.
Hayashi dropped onto his futon, staring at the ceiling.
Training under Tsunade was exhausting, frustrating, and dangerous, but it was also undeniably effective. Still, he could only hope that this insane routine would end soon.
For now, though, he closed his eyes, preparing for whatever madness tomorrow would bring.
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