The dawn was crisp, the sky streaked with faint crimson and gold. The Uchiha compound bustled quietly with early activity, but the courtyard where Keiji stood was isolated, reserved for the lessons Madara reserved for only those he deemed worthy.
Shiny Gengar hovered beside him, its grin sharper than usual, and Keiji's heart thudded—not from fear, but anticipation. Today, the lessons were from Madara himself.
---
The Gaze of the Eternal
Madara stood at the center of the training yard, his posture immovable, yet every movement of his body radiated tension, precision, and power. His armor gleamed faintly under the rising sun, and his Sharingan flickered with analytical curiosity.
"Keiji," Madara said, voice low and commanding. "Stand ready."
Keiji bowed slightly, nerves coiling in his stomach. The air around Madara was different—he could feel it even before Gengar whispered a warning. The aura was sharp, like a blade hovering at his throat.
Beside Madara, an elder trained in Uchiha Taijutsu—the intricate hand-to-hand combat techniques unique to the clan—stood ready to assist. His movements were swift, precise, like water striking stone, his eyes watching Keiji's form closely.
"Today," Madara continued, voice calm but deadly, "you will learn more than strikes and dodges. You will learn the language of the body."
---
Taijutsu and Instinct
The first exercise was deceptively simple: sparring with the elder under Madara's watchful eye.
"Instinct fighting," the elder said, voice like sandpaper. "Do not think. React. Your body must become the shield and the sword. Learn to sense openings, weaknesses, and strike points—the nodes of the human body where precision overwhelms strength."
Keiji nodded, moving into stance.
The elder lunged, a blur of motion, striking at his shoulder. Keiji blocked instinctively, his arms flowing with reflex rather than thought. Another strike, aimed at his ribs, he dodged, rolling under a spinning kick.
"Focus on the points," the elder instructed. "Eyes, throat, solar plexus, joints—your strikes must disable before the enemy even understands what hit them."
Madara observed silently, hands crossed behind his back. The elder's movements were deliberate, almost ritualistic, and Keiji mirrored them, every motion crisp, controlled, lethal in concept though novice in execution.
By the fifth round, sweat beaded on Keiji's brow. His breaths came in quick, shallow bursts, yet his instincts sharpened. Each dodge, each counter, each strike flowed naturally, his body becoming a weapon guided by intuition rather than conscious thought.
---
Recognizing the Sealing Incident
After several hours of exhaustive sparring and learning, Madara stepped forward. His eyes, crimson with Sharingan, studied Keiji intently.
"Keiji," he said finally, voice softer, but layered with curiosity. "I sensed… something during your last training. Something… unusual."
Keiji stiffened. He glanced at Gengar. The ghost Pokémon's grin widened, and with a silent nod, it sank into his shadow and surged into Madara's perception, replaying the events of the sealing incident in vivid clarity.
Madara's eyes narrowed as he observed—the writhing ink, the pulse of the scroll, the way Gengar had intervened, consuming the core of the seal while Keiji was partially fused with it.
His lips pressed into a thin line. "So… this is what occurred."
Keiji swallowed, heart pounding. He had expected reprimand, perhaps anger. But Madara's gaze was steady, calm, and… paternal.
---
A Father's Words
Madara lowered his gaze to Keiji, voice losing its formal edge. "Keiji, you must understand—what you endured was not failure. It was trial. The seal, the scroll… it tested your limits and forced the latent parts of your being to awaken. That Gengar of yours—do not underestimate it. It acts as an extension of your will, of your soul. You must master it, not fear it."
Keiji's mind whirled. "Master… it?"
Madara's expression softened imperceptibly. "I know you fear that it might consume you. But listen, boy—power is never free. The strongest shinobi are those who endure, who accept what cannot be undone, and emerge with control. That is what you must strive for. Always."
Gengar hovered closer to Keiji, its eyes gleaming knowingly, as though confirming every word of Madara's.
Keiji felt his chest tighten, emotions stirring. For the first time, he saw his father not as a distant, untouchable force, but as a guide. Someone who understood the burden of power and responsibility.
Talk no jutsu? he thought fleetingly, almost laughing to himself. No… but perhaps this is the beginner's lesson.
---
Lessons in the Body
After the conversation, Madara and the elder continued with a more focused session on Uchiha Taijutsu.
"You must not only strike the points," Madara instructed, demonstrating a swift blow to a training dummy's neck and shoulder. "You must predict, react, and exploit instinctively. The body has memory. Muscle, bone, and reflex—they understand far more than the mind."
Keiji mirrored his father's movements, sweat glistening as he attempted to internalize not just the strikes, but the flow between attack and defense.
The elder moved alongside him, demonstrating combinations, pressure points, and the subtleties of human vulnerability.
Snap the wrist, destabilize the elbow, strike the diaphragm…
Keiji repeated each, testing speed and precision. His Sharingan flared briefly, enhancing perception, yet Madara cautioned him:
"Do not rely solely on your eyes. Instinct is greater than perception. You must feel the opening before it appears, anticipate the strike before it arrives. That is the essence of Uchiha hand-to-hand combat."
---
Fatherly Pep Talk
After hours of grueling training, Madara finally stepped back, arms crossed. He studied Keiji, who was panting but determined.
"Keiji," he said, tone warmer than usual. "What happened with that seal—it could have destroyed you. And yet, you endured. You survived. That is strength. Not merely in body, but in spirit. That is what it means to carry the Uchiha blood."
Keiji's eyes widened. The words struck him—not as lecture, but as encouragement.
Madara stepped closer, placing a hand on Keiji's shoulder. "Remember this: power is a tool, not a curse. Fear is an obstacle, not a chain. And your choices—always—define what that power will become. You survived because you were brave, because you trusted yourself. Never forget that, son."
Keiji's mind spun. His heart raced. Did… did my father just talk to me like a normal person? He wondered, almost in disbelief. Has he… unlocked beginner version talk-no-jutsu?
Madara smiled faintly, a shadow of amusement crossing his features. "Even the strongest need guidance. Even the strongest need someone to show them the path. That is why I am here. And why I will continue to push you."
Keiji exhaled slowly, still reeling from the combination of training, confession, and paternal insight. He glanced at Gengar, whose grin seemed almost… conspiratorial.
Madara's eyes lingered on him, deep and knowing. "Tomorrow," he said softly, "we begin the next stage. And Keiji… you must be ready. Not just in body, but in mind. Something is coming—something that will test every lesson you have learned. And you will not have Gengar to shield you this time."
The words hung in the air like a knife's edge. Keiji felt a chill.
Gengar's shadow flickered unnaturally, its eyes glimmering with unreadable intent.
And Keiji realized, with a shiver, that whatever awaited in the Youth Ninja Competition would demand everything he had—and more.
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End of the Chapter
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