Konoha-Style Kenjutsu and Uchiha Style Kenjutsu were fundamentally different.
The former emphasized technique, using Shadow Clones to attack an enemy from three directions with swords. This left the opponent unable to tell where the real body was and created an opportunity to kill with a single strike. The latter was more brutish by comparison, not only relying on broad, forceful movements but also channeling chakra into the blade to maximize its power.
Gekko Hayate had performed it only once, but Arata had used his Sharingan to copy it.
But he had only imitated it.
The Dance of the Crescent Moon he performed was riddled with flaws. The coordination between his real body and the two Shadow Clones was like that of a toddler just learning to speak—utterly uncoordinated. They even got in each other's way, completely failing to show the sword technique's strange, nimble advantages.
After all, copying ninjutsu was fundamentally different from copying kenjutsu or taijutsu.
For the former, having chakra with the right nature was enough. The latter also required the user's physique and talent to keep up.
Arata's current problem was that his brain had already issued the commands, but his body still lagged two or three beats behind. There was no way he could coordinate with his Shadow Clones on top of that.
Seeing this, Gekko Hayate's expression finally eased a little.
If the Sharingan could really copy the sword technique he prided himself on and make it Arata's own, he might as well bash his head against a wall and die.
It had taken him three months just to learn the basics of the Konoha Style: Dance of the Crescent Moon. Reaching his current level had taken another three years of practice.
No one knew what those three years had been like for him!
The friends who had graduated alongside him were all learning flashy ninjutsu—things like the Great Fireball Jutsu and Hidden Shadow Snake Hands, or summoning a Maneki-neko-shaped Torture House.
He alone had been toiling away at the dull art of swordsmanship.
Now, this Uchiha boy had used his Kekkei Genkai to leap past the three months of effort it had taken him to get started. Anyone would have struggled to accept that disparity.
Fortunately, the Sharingan alone was nowhere near enough to truly master Konoha-Style Kenjutsu.
Besides, with the thousands of ninjutsu collected by the Uchiha, could the little fellow before him really stick with honing his skills for three years?
Unlikely.
The sun sank toward the horizon.
Gekko Hayate had left long ago.
As an Anbu operative and the Third Hokage's private soldier, he didn't have time to stay and watch a little kid practice sword swings.
That's right.
Arata was still mechanically swinging his blade.
The chakra inside him had run dry that morning while he practiced the Dance of the Crescent Moon. Even after he'd wolfed down two Military Ration Pills for lunch, he still hadn't recovered much chakra.
As luck would have it, though, he had completed the "Ninja Arts Without End" daily task.
In the past, manipulating ninjutsu and ninja tools had been the two things he practiced the least.
"Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-eight."
"Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine."
"Ten thousand!"
His blade lowered. After a full day of turning like a machine, Arata had finally earned some time to rest.
After taking a few deep breaths, he sat down where he was and set his Katana aside. His right hand trembled uncontrollably as it slowly reached into his pocket. It was time to enjoy today's rewards.
When his right hand opened again, three pills shaped much like Military Ration Pills lay in his palm. But they weren't meant to fill his stomach. They were meant to improve his body!
The emerald-green pill was a Low-Level Speed Pill, earned through running with weights. After swallowing it, he felt light all over, and some of the fatigue from a day of training lifted.
Though he could barely feel the Low-Level Speed Pill improving his speed anymore, the way it eased his fatigue was still very welcome.
More importantly, running with weights was the daily task he'd stuck with longer than any other, except meditation. In a few days, he would reach the thousand-day milestone and earn an Intermediate Speed Pill!
That would be when things truly changed!
The Constitution Pill he'd earned from swinging his blade was red. It was the reason eight-year-old Arata had dared to go fist-to-fist with Akimichi Hishi.
After swallowing it, a warm feeling spread through his body, as if power hidden deep within him were surging forth. It also further eased his physical fatigue.
Without those two pills to keep him going, his body might not have lasted even a week under such intense training.
The last pill was blue, a Chakra Pill. It gave off a deep, calming feeling.
After swallowing it, he felt as though he were lying in a shallow stream, letting its gentle energy flow through his body before seeping into each of his cells.
It gave him not only a little chakra, but also a slight increase to his chakra reserves!
In theory, as long as he kept building them up, one day Arata might earn the nickname Tail-less Tailed Beast.
Still, even though he'd completed all three daily tasks today, he couldn't help feeling disappointed.
He hadn't completed the stage task, Swordsmanship Mastery.
The task progress still showed that the only swordsmanship he had mastered was Uchiha Style.
Copying it with the Sharingan alone wasn't enough.
He sighed inwardly, then picked up the blade beside him again. With the little chakra he'd just recovered, he still had to practice one more time.
"Ren."
As he murmured the word, two Shadow Clones appeared with a poof.
Meanwhile.
At the heart of the Uchiha Clan, inside the residence of its clan head, Fugaku Uchiha—
"Itachi."
His deep voice rang through the brightly lit hall.
Watching the boy who had tried to walk past the entrance without saying a word, Fugaku Uchiha couldn't help the anger rising in his eyes.
His beloved son had entered the Anbu at eleven through his own abilities. He should have been immensely proud of him!
But now the boy was becoming more and more willful!
The clan elders had been unhappy with him for a long time.
Itachi Uchiha paused in the corridor. After a brief hesitation, he turned around and softly answered the man seated in the hall.
"Father."
But that was all he said. Nothing more.
"Why did you miss the last gathering again?"
Suppressing his anger, Fugaku Uchiha asked in a low voice.
"I've already explained, Father."
Itachi replied calmly.
"I had an Anbu mission. I had no choice but to go."
As if he thought the man before him might have forgotten, he added,
"Stop using the Anbu as an excuse. Remember who you are. You are Itachi of the Uchiha!"
Fugaku Uchiha practically roared the words.
Even an orphan in the clan knew who he was and called himself Arata of the Uchiha! So why did his own son keep disappointing him, again and again, unable to see where he belonged?
Yet when Itachi heard those words, he wasn't moved in the slightest. Instead, a trace of disgust hid in his eyes.
"Uchiha, Uchiha!"
He'd had enough of this clan!
"No."
Perhaps this clan was already beyond saving.
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