Shadow of Senju

Shadow of Senju

"If I had to name one, it would be that clan."

"The Senju clan."

Senju?

Lost in thought, Itachi took off his shoes and left the paper bag containing the indigo combat uniform in the shadows of the entryway. As he walked down the corridor, the sliding door to the Japanese-style room silently opened a crack, and dim yellow light spilled out, illuminating Uchiha Fugaku's figure.

"You're back?" Fugaku's voice rang through the silent residence, carrying less of a clan head's solemnity than usual and a trace more of a father's calm.

"Yes, Father." Itachi stopped.

Fugaku's gaze fell on the paper bag. "You bought something?"

"A gift from my senior." Itachi picked up the bag and handed it over.

Fugaku accepted it, rubbing the fabric through the bag with his fingers before weighing it in his hand. "Oh, this must have cost quite a bit." He looked up at Itachi. "Did he only buy one for you?"

"Senior Anko got one too."

"Is that so." Fugaku handed the paper bag back, his movements steady. "Since it's a gift from your captain, keep it properly." He paused. "I'll arrange a return gift later."

"Father." Itachi's voice carried a note of inquiry.

"Yes?"

"The Senju clan." Itachi looked directly at his father. "Where did the Senju clan, the one once as renowned as our Uchiha, go? There is no designated Senju clan district in the village."

The last trace of softness on Fugaku's face vanished, replaced by deep gravity. He fell silent for a moment before slowly speaking. "They—the Senju—are everywhere beyond the territories of all the ninja clans. That is the Senju."

Itachi's pupils contracted.

Fugaku continued, "That clan declared its dissolution back in Lord Hashirama's era, so naturally there is no 'Senju clan district' on the village's planning map." His gaze was profound. "Yet every outstanding ninja you see who does not come from a major clan may carry Senju blood." He paused, his tone growing deeper. "Even Lord Tobirama's disciples—the current advisors Utatane Koharu and Mitokado Homura... one cannot be certain..."

"Father means the Senju clan did not truly disband?" Itachi asked softly.

Fugaku slowly shook his head. "Their dissolution is a fact. Lord Hashirama and Lord Tobirama personally presided over it. Every ninja clan witnessed it with their own eyes. It has been decades." Then his tone shifted. "But after Lord Tobirama's death, there remained someone of immense prestige among the former Senju clan. Therefore, between them... there is still a connection. An invisible yet resilient connection."

"Lady Tsunade?" Itachi asked.

"No." Fugaku dismissed the guess. "Princess Tsunade has been away from the village for many years." He took a deep breath, his eyes unfathomable. "It was the former aide to those two Senju lords—Senju Toka."

Toka...

The name sent ripples through Itachi's heart. He instantly recalled his father's seemingly casual inquiry while receiving Senior Shuji—"I heard you have always lived in an... Old Residence in the village's West Suburbs? And that Lord Toka personally raised and instructed you?"

The trail suddenly became clear.

"Senior..." Itachi's voice held confirmation.

"If nothing unexpected happens," Fugaku said, his gaze settling tangibly on Itachi's face, "then after Lord Toka, the person still capable of maintaining those people... maintaining that connection and influence..." He paused, each word distinct. "Should be your captain."

The air in the Japanese-style room seemed to freeze. The lamp wick crackled faintly as it burned. Fugaku leaned forward slightly, his voice low and powerful.

"Itachi, this is an opportunity for the Uchiha clan."

The morning light pierced the thin mist above Training Ground Three, dyeing the sand a pale gold. After several consecutive days of tactical coordination, the grounds had gained traces belonging to "Shuji's Team."

"Left flank! Itachi, disrupt him! Don't let that guy form hand seals!" Anko's voice held a sharpness that had long been absent. Her charging figure left an afterimage across the sand, her hooded dark-purple trench coat fluttering like a streak of leaping violet lightning. Her fingers formed seals in rapid succession. "Hidden Shadow Snake Hands!" Three grayish-brown venomous snakes shot from her sleeves, not directly at the wooden post serving as a target, but at tricky angles to block the space to either side where it could dodge.

Almost the instant she moved, Itachi's figure appeared ghostlike in the blind spot behind and to the side of the wooden post. His two-tomoe Sharingan silently activated. Their gazes met, and without a word, he launched a brief genjutsu straight at the target! The Shadow Clone beside the post, responsible for simulating an enemy ninja, abruptly stiffened.

"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!" Shuji's calm voice rang out, though he had already moved from his original command position to the optimal attack angle. The enormous blazing fireball roared as it flew, striking the Shadow Clone with precision while it was disrupted by genjutsu and had its retreat blocked by venomous snakes!

Boom!

Flames erupted, and the heat warped the air. The Shadow Clone dispersed into white smoke. Their tactical coordination had flowed seamlessly from start to finish.

"Stop." Shuji signaled. Anko stopped, panting as she wiped the sweat from her brow. The initial despondency had vanished from her face, replaced by the spark in her eyes that belonged to a ninja. Itachi deactivated his Sharingan, his breathing steady, then walked to the edge of the field and opened the leather notebook he carried with him, quickly recording the details of their coordination and chakra expenditure.

"The snakes' attack angles can be two points trickier. Compress the opponent's space for forming hand seals." Shuji walked to Anko's side and offered his assessment. "If the trench coat hood obstructs your vision while moving at high speed, secure it or take it off. Combat takes priority." His gaze fell on Itachi's notebook. "Your records are detailed. Your timing for the genjutsu was good, and your chakra consumption is more stable than yesterday."

Anko tugged at the hood of her trench coat and muttered, "Got it. I'll watch out next time." Yet there was no longer any resistance in her tone. Itachi merely gave a quiet "Mm" and continued refining his notes. Several days of practice had been like an invisible file, gradually grinding away their distance and unfamiliarity.

"Rest for fifteen minutes." Shuji walked beneath the shade of a tree and sat cross-legged. Anko immediately ran over, grabbed her water flask, and gulped down several mouthfuls before snatching up a biscuit and chewing it. Itachi sat quietly nearby, drinking water as his eyes rested on his notebook, repeatedly considering several tactical points.

Shuji closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into his body. These past few days, he had led the team's training during the day, but his cultivation had never ceased at night. His attempts to have Wood Clones absorb natural energy still came with an extremely high failure rate. Seven or eight out of ten attempts often caused the Wood Clone's structure to lose balance and become wooden, only to be petrified in the end by the backlash of violent natural energy. Yet every failure gave him a slightly clearer sense of that omnipresent, elusive force of heaven and earth.

Natural energy... unlike chakra, which originated from the spiritual and physical energy of life itself, it was more like the more primal and immense "foundation" that made up this world. Violent, yet containing an indescribable vitality.

Perhaps... the direction is right. But to complete this cultivation, something is still missing... Shuji mused.

The Senju bloodline and Hashirama Cells had given him a foundation far beyond ordinary people, but he still fell short whenever it came to containing and transforming natural energy...

"Senior," Itachi's clear voice interrupted his thoughts. "Regarding that coordination just now, if the opponent is a sensory-type ninja and avoids the genjutsu in advance, should we adjust the subsequent Fire Style suppression point?"

Shuji opened his eyes and accepted the notebook Itachi handed over. A simple formation diagram and analysis were clearly drawn inside. "Very good question. We need to add a contingency plan..."

Training continued through repeated consideration of tactical details and practical combat simulations. The sun gradually climbed higher, shortening the three of their shadows across the sand. Anko's snake ninjutsu and Itachi's Sharingan genjutsu connected ever more smoothly, while Shuji's ninjutsu support always appeared at the most critical moments. A rough but effective tactical system, based on understanding and trust in one another's abilities, was slowly taking shape.

When the noon sunlight became scorching and dazzling, a figure appeared soundlessly beneath the shade of a tree at the edge of the training ground, as though blending into the light itself. The newcomer wore an animal mask and the standard Anbu uniform, their presence concealed to the point of near nonexistence.

"Jonin Shuji." A flat voice came from behind the mask, not loud, yet clearly overriding the sounds of training.

Shuji stopped correcting Anko's taijutsu stance and turned around. Itachi and Anko immediately halted as well, watching the newcomer warily.

"The Hokage summons you." The Anbu ninja spoke concisely. "Please proceed to the Hokage Office immediately."