The last day of the second year arrived.
The classroom buzzed with excitement. Spring break—no lectures, no drills, just freedom.
For some, that meant rest. For others—clan heirs and civilians alike—it meant extra training, family duties, no time to breathe.
Girls swarmed Shorai and Sasuke's table, fluttering with plans in mind, subtle invitations disguised as training offers.
Sasuke didn't look up. "No."
Shorai smiled, polite but firm. "I'll be focused on graduating. No distractions. But if we meet by chance, sure."
He glanced at Sakura. "You should spend time with your family. Even if they're annoying."
The girls hesitated. His warmth carried a quiet sadness. They compared the two boys—both distant, both strong, but different. Sasuke radiated cold pride. Shorai, quiet depth.
The boys noticed too. Shorai wasn't flashy, but he listened. He helped. He never looked down. They respected him—even if they couldn't train together. He always had an excuse, always a reason that sounded like something Iruka or their parents would say.
The crowd thinned.
Naruto laughed with Kiba, Chōji, and Shikamaru.
Just as the girls stepped away, Sasuke turned.
His voice was low, hesitant—then sharp.
"What's your secret? How did you get so strong?"
Shorai paused, packing his scrolls.
"Konoha's Library."
Sasuke blinked. "L-library?"
"All the knowledge you need. Chakra theory, geography, medicine, survival, physical training… it's all there."
The girls froze.
"No wonder I can't keep up," Sakura muttered.
"You spent your free time there?" Ino asked. "Didn't it get boring? It's a miracle you don't have Sakura's forehead."
"Ino!"
"He-he…"
They bickered off, but glanced back.
Sasuke stared at the table, stunned.
Shorai slung his bag, leaned down, and whispered: "I understand your pride. Not your loss. But there's nothing weak about asking for direction. Better to be rightly prepared than falsely confident."
He patted Sasuke's shoulder. "Mondays and Fridays. I'll be there."
Sasuke nodded. "Thanks."
The girls stopped mid-step. Smiled. Waved. Left.
Naruto stayed behind, watching.
Shorai didn't.
He had training to do.
The next Monday, early morning.
Sasuke stood before the three-story library, fists clenched.
Shorai spotted him, quickened his pace.
"Morning, Sasuke."
"Hn." A side glance.
"Scared of knowledge? Don't worry. I'll protect you from it." Shorai smirked and took a step forward.
Sasuke stiffened—embarrassed, confused, annoyed.
Shorai's tone shifted. "This place holds power. Maybe even a shortcut."
They entered. The librarian, familiar now, nodded. After a few words, Sasuke was granted a permit.
Shorai gave the tour.
Sasuke's head turned constantly—eyes wide, absorbing.
"What helped you most? Theory?"
"Theory helped everything. Physical training came from medicine and research sections. Here." Shorai pointed, wrote down a sequence. "This order makes the complex easier. Ask if you need to."
Sasuke looked at the list. "Hm… thanks. I'll keep it in mind."
He sat, opened a book.
Shorai moved to the research and medicine section.
He was close to finishing the entire first floor.
Time passed.
The library was about to close.
Shorai gathered his notes—carefully burned into scrolls using the Reality Stone's warped chakra, ensuring only physical traces remained. He glanced across the room.
Sasuke sat alone, silhouetted under the dim light, frowning at a thick medical theory text.
"They're closing soon," Shorai said. "See you later, Sasuke."
"Hn. Thanks," Sasuke replied, barely looking up.
Shorai walked home, thoughts swirling.
"Two years down. Four more to go…" He sighed. "If I went all out, I could've graduated in the first year. But holding back… it's exhausting. That power inside—always pulsing. Becoming the hunter, not the haunted. Survival comes first."
By April, Shorai had mastered tree and water walking—even under added weight. He understood the minimal chakra needed to maintain balance, though fighting on water remained taxing.
He could perform Clone and Transformation techniques sealless, near-instantly. His chakra reserves were average, but his control was exceptional—confirmed by his spectral guide. Chakra flowed through his body with thoughtless precision.
He found Kawarimi inefficient without refinement. Why rely on a log when Shunshin offered speed and evasion? He practiced blending Shunshin bursts with Bunshin as misdirection, minimizing wasted motion.
His taijutsu evolved—high-speed movement enhanced by chakra bursts. He could Shunshin short distances—three to five meters—without hand seals, though it left a blur and a faint dust trail. It wasn't silent. Full-body application wasn't there yet.
But something strange happened.
During high-speed drills, friction nearly vanished—no heat, no resistance.
He paused. Tested again.
Normal motion—friction returned.
"Huh? Am I hallucinating… or is the Reality Stone affecting me passively?"
He dismissed it. "Must be chakra stabilizing molecular motion. Doesn't matter. Focus."
He advanced his tenketsu-based style, striking with chakra scalpel-infused fists and palms—fluid, surgical, lethal.
Shurikenjutsu improved too. He spent days refining chakra threads to guide and retrieve shuriken—still crude, detached mid-flight, but promising.
Progress was slow.
But it was real.
And it was his.