A sudden downpour had just washed over Konoha's training grounds, leaving the air thick with the scent of damp earth.
The Konoha 12 had gathered to review their latest sparring session. Naruto laughed with his hands on his hips, his forehead protector sitting crooked on his brow. "Did you see that? Even Kakashi-sensei praised how fast my Rasengan was improving!"
"Show-off." Sasuke snorted and turned away, but his fingers unconsciously traced the hand seals for the new move he had just mastered, blurring into afterimages with a soft swish. Guang had trained him to practice hand seals anytime, anywhere, and to refine his chakra with a secret technique. It was tedious and painful, but he enjoyed it.
Eight Trigrams Mountain Breaker, Eight Trigrams Vacuum Palm, Eight Trigrams One Hundred Twenty-Eight Palms, Rotation, Rasengan, the Pressure Point Technique, Ancient Martial Taijiquan, and Eight Trigrams Palm—he had mastered them one after another.
Neji stood silently to one side, but his expression carried the sharp confidence of someone who believed none of his peers could match him. Their recent breakthroughs had quietly added a trace of unmistakable arrogance to the boys' and girls' confidence.
Calling Neji unbeatable among these children was hardly an exaggeration now, even though Naruto could draw on nine-tails chakra, or Sasuke could use his three-tomoe Sharingan—
Just then, the space at the center of the training grounds rippled like water struck by a stone. A figure in an old-fashioned robe, with two long locks of deathly white curly hair trailing behind him, tumbled out with a pop and nearly landed in a puddle.
He looked up and spotted Qingwu nearby. His eyes went round, and he scrambled toward him, shouting loudly enough to pierce the clouds. "Boss! Boss! You finally remembered me! Your most, most, most loyal underling, Jingze—Otsutsuki