Uchiha Shisui was not Uzumaki Naruto.
Among the hundreds of Shisuis encircling Kei, only one was real.
The rest? Illusions. Shadows.
Of course, Shisui could use Shadow Clone, but that technique was chakra-intensive. This was a friendly spar, not a battle to the death.
Yet, even without true clones, his high-speed feints and body flicker attacks blurred the line between illusion and reality. To Kei's eyes, every clone seemed capable of striking.
That was Shisui's true terror.
Speed that transcended sight.
Ordinary clones evaporated under the pressure of Kei's Great Breakthrough, but the real Shisui had already dodged. A flicker here. A vanish there.
Kei narrowed his eyes.
'His movement creates pressure. I understand now why he's feared. That sense of inevitability... this must be what his enemies felt.'
The clones didn't breathe. They made no sound. But Shisui's real body—it shifted weight ever so slightly, disturbed the leaves, pulled chakra into the soles of his feet. If you looked for rhythm, you'd find him.
Shisui reappeared ten meters away, small sword raised high.
"Uchiha Style: Sword Leaping Flame!"
A three-meter flaming arc slashed through the air, aimed directly at Kei.
Kei's eyes were calm. He responded without hesitation:
"Wind Style: Beast Wave Fierce Wind Palm!"
A giant crescent-shaped wind blade met the flaming arc midair.
"Boom!!!"
Fire and wind collided, exploding in a ring of pressure that distorted the very air around them. Shisui didn't wait for the smoke to settle.
"Uchiha Style: Dance of Halo!"
Each arc carved a trail of light through the overcast sky, casting a reddish glow on the treetops. The flames shimmered like molten ribbons, and for a heartbeat, it was as if the sun had split into three angry crescents, descending with judgment.
Three sweeping arcs of fire burst from his blade, curving through the sky at impossible angles. Ten-meter blades, descending in perfect synchronization.
Kei's eyes snapped to each one, then he leapt.
"Leaf Strong Whirlwind!"
He spun, chakra and wind converging into a rotating updraft. A miniature tornado.
The first blade missed.
The second grazed the edge.
The third struck directly—but instead of knocking him from the air, it was devoured by the spiraling winds and kindled into flame.
Wind became fire. Fire became fury.
Kei's body became the eye of a flaming vortex.
Kei hadn't meant for it to happen. The merger of techniques wasn't rehearsed. But in that instant, the chakra in his limbs aligned with the heat, and his body responded. Not with thought—but with intuition. With harmony. It was terrifying, and exhilarating.
A firestorm roared across the training ground, scorching deep trenches into the earth. Shisui blinked.
'It's not just power. It's adaptation. Reflexes. He's shaping elements in real-time.'
This wasn't ordinary ninjutsu. This was combat intuition fused with creativity.
Shisui's feet blurred.
"Sharingan!"
Three tomoe spun into view. His perception sharpened.
He hurled dozens of kunai—but these weren't just steel.
"Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Claw Red!"
Each kunai ignited mid-flight, trails of fire streaking toward Kei's vortex.
Detonating tags activated.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
A chain of explosions burst across the field, fire and pressure rippling outward.
When the dust finally cleared, Kei stood at the heart of it all.
Unharmed.
Even his clothes remained pristine.
Shisui and Itachi stared, stunned.
'Not even a singe mark...'
For experienced shinobi like them, that was absurd.
They didn't necessarily expect Kei to lose.
But they hadn't expected invulnerability.
At four years old.
Itachi's thoughts sharpened.
'Not just talented... he might be our generation's singularity.'
Shisui lowered his blade slightly, awe flickering behind his smile.
He glanced at Itachi, who was still frozen on the branch above.
'We couldn't have done that. Not at that age.'
Kei simply exhaled and reset his stance.
He wasn't done learning yet.