The arguments, a pointless exchange of stubborn wills, finally tapered off, leaving a silence thick with exhaustion, a quiet borne not of resolution, but of simple, physical fatigue.
As was their custom, they set about the ritual of the afternoon. Hashirama, with his boundless energy, cast the lines, and soon enough, they had caught a respectable number of fish.
A small, crackling fire was soon alight, the fresh catch skewered and turning slowly over the embers, the scent of smoke and cooking fish mingling in the forest air, a comforting, primitive aroma.
It was during the quiet moment of waiting that Hashirama broke the silence, his eyes fixed on Ishiki, a look of profound curiosity mixed with something akin to wonder.
"Ishiki," he asked, his voice low, "how did you make the cloak appear from thin wear? "
"Did u make the cape?".
He asked several questions nonstop, and Madara, too, looked at me to listen to my answers.
Ishiki felt a familiar knot of apprehension. He contemplated his answer, weighing the impossible truth against a plausible lie.
He couldn't reveal the existence of the 'System,' the mysterious mechanics that governed his strange powers. It was a secret too fundamental, too dangerous, to share, even with these two future legends.
He looked Hashirama directly in the eye, crafting a careful, deceptive half-truth.
"I... I have a unique ability," Ishiki began, trying to sound nonchalant.
"I can create items with special properties or enchant them with abilities, like the Reverse Cloak. It's an innate skill."
He knew, instantly, that it was a blatant lie, a fabrication that a genius like Hashirama, or especially Madara, would eventually see through.
He felt a pang of guilt and glanced away, but Hashirama, lost in the simple explanation, didn't seem to notice his fleeting moment of distress.
Madara, however, was far more perceptive. He had observed Ishiki's subtle shift in posture, the fleeting guilt in his eyes.
He nodded slowly, as if confirming a suspicion to himself, his gaze piercing.
"Are there any other items like these?" Madara asked, his voice measured, pressing the point further.
"If you can do this, what else can you create?"
Ishiki swallowed, buying a moment to think. Yeah, he admitted, trying to sound casual, "I have a few other ideas for tools. But they're complicated.
I can't do it right now. I need to get much stronger first. I need to improve my chakra reserves and control significantly before I can attempt anything more complex."
And even then, I don't know when the next 'Gadget' will unlock, Ishiki thought to himself, the frustrating limitations of his unknown system a constant background worry.
What are the conditions to unlock new abilities or items? I'm completely in the dark.
Hashirama, practical and ever-focused on the path of strength, seemed satisfied with the answer.
"Yes," he said, standing up and dusting off his hands, we will start that training right after we eat. Your control and reserves need work.
Madara, still intrigued by the prospect of such powerful artifacts, looked at the reinforced kunai in Ishiki's belt.
"Can I borrow it?" he asked, a rare hint of eagerness in his voice. "Just for a day, sometime down the line?"
Ishiki considered the request. Giving such a powerful item to either of them, even for a short time, was risky, but it was also an investment in their goodwill.
"I thought about it," Ishiki replied, a sly grin forming on his face.
I will give it to you both, eventually, for training or important missions.
But there's a price.
You need to pay me to use it.
He said the last part with a dramatic flourish, knowing full well he didn't need money, but wanting to establish a transactional basis for his unique 'gifts.'
They both exchanged a look and then nodded. "Okay," they agreed in unison.
The fish was finally cooked, and the trio ate with the hunger only intense physical activity can bring, the brief period of intense discussion giving way to the simple, satisfying necessity of food.
As soon as they finished, the training began in earnest. Hashirama, a natural teacher despite his youth, pushed Ishiki hard.
They sparred, worked on chakra control exercises, and practiced movement drills until the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery oranges and deep purples.
When the light faded and the training session concluded, Ishiki, sore and exhausted, retreated to his corner and, as he did every evening, checked his System interface with a surge of anticipation.
"Today was better than yesterday," he murmured to himself, a small, genuine smile on his face as he read the updated statistics.
STATUS
Name: Ishiki
Age: 12
Chakra: 10/10
Strength: 5
The growth was slow but steady. His Chakra had increased by 2 units, a significant jump, and his Strength had also climbed by 1 point.
Maybe all this training, combined with the fact that I'm finally eating three square meals a day, is why I'm improving so rapidly, he mused, hopeful that the upward trend would continue.
And so, this intense pattern became the rhythm of his life. Day after day, his training continued with unrelenting consistency.
Hashirama's drills and Madara's brutal sparring sessions sharpened him physically and mentally.
Over a period of several weeks, the incremental gains compounded. His Chakra reserves steadily increased, and his Strength also improved markedly. The most noticeable change, however, was to his appearance.
He was no longer the frail, scrawny child who had first stumbled into this world.
The haunted, malnourished look was gone, replaced by the sturdy build and sharp, focused eyes of a young Shinobi in training.
He was becoming stronger, capable, and, in a deeply ironic twist, more himself than he had ever been.