Naruto Has Improved

When Naruto flung the shuriken, the web between his thumb and forefinger went numb from the impact.

This time, the shuriken did not miss—it flew steadily through the autumn sunlight over the training ground, rose slightly, then embedded itself in the edge of the target. It was still half an inch from the bullseye, but at least it had stuck in the target board instead of falling to the ground again.

Naruto stared at the target for three seconds.

Then he wiped the sweat from his hand on his orange jacket, clenched it into a fist, and raised his arm over his head.

"All right—!"

There was no one else on the training ground.

His hand froze in midair as he looked around. The sandy field was empty. In the distance, students on cleaning duty were putting away the gymnastics mats beside the parallel bars. No one applauded. No one gave him a thumbs-up. His schoolbag sat alone beside the track, its zipper open, with his old textbooks nearly slipping out.

He lowered his fist.

Then he applauded for himself.

He clapped a little too hard. His palms smacked together loudly, startling a bird near the edge of the field into flight. He watched it disappear behind the ginkgo trees. Then he bent down, picked up another slightly crooked shuriken, took a deep breath, and threw again.

Just like before—it hit.

He retrieved the shuriken, brushed the sand off its blade, and put it into his ninja tool pouch. The pouch was old. Its artificial leather edges had worn through, and the metal clasp was rusted, creaking every time he fastened it.

But it still worked.

Naruto closed the pouch and gave it a pat. It made a dull thump—a solid, reassuring sound.

He felt like he should tell someone.

Shuo Ye was doing push-ups at the training ground beside the Naka River.

The evening wind swept across the river, carrying a damp chill that slapped against his body. He did his push-ups without chakra assistance—pure physical strength, perfect form, his back as flat as a tabletop. By the sixteenth set, sweat had soaked through his clothes, leaving a large dark patch across his back.

He heard footsteps in the distance—quick and uneven, running a few steps, stopping to catch a breath, then running again.

Shuo Ye did not stop. After finishing the twentieth set, he flipped over and sat up.

"Shuo—Ye—!"

Naruto charged down from the riverbank. He was running too fast, slipped on the slope, and nearly tumbled down. He flailed wildly before grabbing a willow branch by the river and managing to steady himself.

"Next time, can you stop yelling while you're charging over here?" Shuo Ye stood and brushed the dirt from his hands.

Naruto ignored him. He ran up to Shuo Ye, planted both hands on his knees, and panted heavily. After catching his breath for a few seconds, he looked up, his eyes shining.

"My shuriken hit the target today!"

"So it hit. Big deal."

"Three in a row!"

Shuo Ye glanced at him. Naruto's face was covered in sweat, with a streak of dirt across the bridge of his nose and a small scrape on his left cheek, probably from a branch. But he was smiling so hard his eyes had narrowed into slits.

"How far was the target?"

"Ten—ten meters!"

"You couldn't even hit one from five meters before."

"But I can now!" Naruto pulled out a shuriken from his ninja tool pouch and waved it in front of Shuo Ye. "Look—I practiced for so many days!"

Shuo Ye took the shuriken and examined it for a moment. The blade was covered in nicks, badly dulled, and slightly off-balance. But his gaze lingered on one small chip. Unlike before, when Naruto could not even hold a shuriken steady, he could now get this excited over landing three hits in a row.

"Which one is this?"

"The third one."

"What happened to the first two?"

"They broke. The first one went into the river, and the second one—" Naruto scratched his head. "The second one got stuck in the trash can at the school gate."

Shuo Ye handed the shuriken back to him.

"How much chakra did you use while practicing?"

"None! You said to start without using chakra, so I don't use any at all now!"

Naruto puffed out his chest as he said it, his chin tipped slightly upward like a puppy that had found a huge bone—proud and thrilled. He waited for Shuo Ye to say, "Not bad," or "You've improved." Three seconds passed, and nothing came.

His shoulders began to droop.

"Aren't you going to praise me...?"

"Not bad."

Naruto's eyebrows shot up.

"Really? Did you just say not bad? Did you, did you, did you—"

"Are you done?"

Naruto bounced in a circle on the spot. Then he ran to the riverbank and shouted at the Naka River.

"I've improved—!"

A few fireflies drifted over the river, scattering wildly at his shout. In the woods across the river, some unknown bird took flight in fright.

Shuo Ye leaned against a wooden post at the training ground, watching him jump and yell by the river. The water reflected the light of the setting sun, turning Naruto into a golden silhouette.

"Hey, Naruto," Shuo Ye said.

"What?" Naruto ran back. He was moving so fast that he nearly slipped, but he did not stop.

"Tomorrow, I'll take you somewhere good."

After school the next day, Shuo Ye took Naruto to the back mountain of the Uchiha Clan District.

There was an abandoned training ground on the back mountain. It had once been reserved for the Uchiha Clan's children, with six wooden posts and throwing-distance lines marked on the ground. No one had come since the clan massacre. More than a year had passed, and vines had covered the posts while a thick layer of fallen leaves blanketed the ground.

Naruto stood at the edge of the field, his mouth forming a circle.

"This is..."

"An old training ground." Shuo Ye swept aside the fallen leaves with his foot, revealing heavily worn distance markers underneath. "Nothing special. It's just quiet, and no one comes here."

Naruto took his ninja tool pouch from his shoulder and set it at the edge of the field. Several old shuriken lay beneath the leaves—left behind by Uchiha Clan children. Shuo Ye bent down, picked one up, and weighed it in his hand. It felt right.

He stood behind the last marker—the fifteen-meter line—and casually flicked his wrist. Six shuriken flew out one after another, embedding themselves in the six wooden posts. Every single one struck the bullseye, with just enough space between them to fit an index finger.

Naruto was dumbstruck.

"You... you said last time that you were only above average..."

"You call this above average?"

"I lied to you."

"Then why did you still—"

"Because I'm in a good mood today."

Naruto's mouth opened, closed, opened again, and finally he pulled a shuriken from his ninja tool pouch and walked to the ten-meter line.

"I'm going to practice until I can hit from fifteen meters too."

After that, Naruto came to the back mountain almost every day.

After school, while everyone else went shopping, played arcade games, or ate dango, Naruto carried his battered ninja tool pouch over the mountain path behind the Uchiha Clan District and came to that vine-covered training ground.

Sometimes Shuo Ye was there, and sometimes he was not. When he was, he sat against a tree with a book in his hands—though he held it upside down and was not actually reading. He was just sitting there to make sure Naruto did not throw a shuriken into his own foot.

When Shuo Ye was not there, Naruto practiced alone. He would keep going until dark, until moonlight made the wooden posts look like a row of white teeth, before slinging his schoolbag over his shoulder and heading home. When he passed the Yamanaka Flower Shop, Ino would sometimes lean out from the second floor and call, "Naruto, you're practicing this late again!" Without even looking back, Naruto would say, "Mind your own business!"

This day was Thursday. Shuo Ye was not there.

Naruto stood at the ten-meter line, gripping three shuriken in his hand. He took a deep breath and threw them—two embedded themselves in the targets, while one veered off and struck the stone wall with a smack.

"Tch."

He ran over, picked up the one that had missed, blew the stone chips off the blade, and returned to his spot. He threw again.

It missed again.

"Again."

The third time—it missed by even more.

Naruto gripped the shuriken and stood there for a while. Then he walked up to a wooden post, raised his foot, and kicked the target.

The post did not budge. His toes, on the other hand, went numb with pain.

"Ow—!" Hugging his foot, he hopped around twice on one leg and cursed under his breath with a few unspeakable words.

Once he had hopped enough for the pain to fade, he returned to his spot and arranged the shuriken in his hand again.

"I just can't learn this..."

"Your elbow rose during that third throw." A voice came from behind the training ground.

Naruto turned around.

Shuo Ye had arrived at some point. He leaned beneath the largest pine tree on the back mountain, his hands folded over his stomach while the wind ruffled his collar.

"When did you get here?"

"Two minutes ago."

"You were watching the whole time?"

"Yeah."

"Then why didn't you come out earlier?"

"I wanted to see if you'd notice it yourself." Shuo Ye walked over from beneath the tree, bent down, picked up a small stone from the ground, and flicked it at Naruto's elbow—the stone struck the outside of his elbow dead-on. It was not hard, but Naruto felt a sore jolt in the joint, and his arm sprang upward half an inch beyond his control.

"Feel that?"

"Sore..."

"Before every throw, right here—" Shuo Ye tapped the outside of his own elbow joint, "—you unconsciously lift it. You want to throw the shuriken farther. But once your elbow rises, your wrist and fingers twist with it. The instant the shuriken leaves your hand, it isn't going forward. It's going diagonally upward."

Naruto lowered his head to look at his elbow and moved it a little. A small red circle had appeared where the stone hit, and it still felt numb.

"Then I should... keep it lower?"

"Try it like that."

As the evening glow vanished completely beyond the mountain ridge, Naruto threw three shuriken. All three embedded themselves in the targets—one was still on the outer ring of the bullseye, but all three had stuck.

Naruto did not jump up.

He simply stood there, looking at the targets.

The distant ridge swallowed the last trace of orange-red light. The forest fell quiet, and insects gradually began to chirp. The only sounds in the field were the wind, the insects, and the faint rustle of vine leaves brushing against the wooden posts.

"I think I'm almost getting it," Naruto said.

"You've still got a long way to go."

"I know. But—"

Naruto turned around. The training ground was very dark. He could not make out Shuo Ye's face, only his silhouette leaning beneath the tree.

"Thank you."

His voice was soft. It was unlike the usual Naruto—normally, even when Naruto said "thank you," he shouted it.

Shuo Ye stepped out from beneath the tree.

"No need. Go home."

"Yeah."

The two of them walked down from the back mountain. Naruto's footsteps were steadier than when he had arrived, his heels crunching against the ground. At the foot of the mountain, he looked back—the vine-covered training ground was only a vague outline in the night. The six wooden posts stood like six silent people in the darkness.

He would come again tomorrow.

Tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that—until even the shuriken that always went wide could strike the bullseye.