As the third year drew to a close, Shorai balanced his growing responsibilities—weekly spars with Sasuke, secret night training, Academy lessons, and his unexpected foray into fashion modelling. The Heavenly Spring album was progressing well, and the team at Heavenly Lotus buzzed with excitement over the final reveal. Meanwhile, his private training advanced steadily, though not without setbacks.
His attempts to refine a genjutsu-rigged Bunshin progressed slowly. The clone flickered under the added strain of embedded illusion, its silhouette wavering—an obvious flaw in combat. Yet his fighting style matured into a precise, devastating system. His punches could shatter small boulders; larger ones cracked under impact. Chakra scalpel strikes pierced rock, though not instantly—resistance remained, and cutting lacked fluidity.
He had mastered beginner-level Shunshin, and was halfway to advanced application. Short bursts—up to ten meters—were now silent, unless mid-combat or changing direction abruptly. He practiced limb-specific chakra bursts, improving agility, and occasionally evaded basic sensory detection using Reality Stone constructs. A faint afterimage lingered, but it often blurred into obscurity, easily mistaken.
Late one night, during a break before the fourth Academy year, Shorai reviewed his progress with his spectral tutor. Every assessment was burned into scrolls—permanent records.
"The class has improved," he mused. "Even Naruto—now using Henge with just a couple of hand signs." He chuckled. "I still remember the class's shock. And his reserves… monstrous. His stamina could outlast most genin."
He paused, recalling Naruto's sudden obsession with books—burning the midnight oil, slipping from class. "He's changing," Shorai thought. "Not just training. He's… restless."
His gaze returned to the scroll. Progress was slow. Everything demanded chakra—too much. Then came the tutor's verdict: his Yin energy had overtaken Yang.
"You've overtrained the spiritual. Your body cannot keep pace," the construct stated, emotionless. "Stability is compromised."
Shorai frowned. "Is this… like the Kurama clan's imbalance? Physical decline from excessive Yin?"
"Not identical. But not unrelated. Left unchecked, it may attract spiritual instability or illness."
Shorai exhaled. "So the regimen you designed—focused on efficiency, not safety?"
"A variable unaccounted for. Correction is possible."
"No shit! I need correction, Do it!"
"Twenty percent chance you'll achieve even one Shadow Clone by graduation. Your body cannot endure further stress."
Shorai leaned back. "So I must heal first. Fully. Then rebuild."
"Two options," the tutor replied. "Hospital verification—slow, discreet, effective. Or self-healing via medical ninjutsu. Requires study. Recovery: three to six months."
"Damn. And until then?"
"Cease all Yin-based training. No genjutsu. Chakra control is permitted. Limit physical training—no excessive chakra enhancement. Your current level is sufficient for graduation."
Shorai nodded. "Alright. Fix me. Give me the knowledge—how to heal myself, safely, and without harming anyone else. Medical theory. Cell activation. Anything."
He waited patiently.
"Careful what you wish for, eh?"
Until April, Shorai immersed himself in the Konoha Library, surrounded by open scrolls and medical texts on anatomy, biology, and cellular regeneration. The Heavenly Spring album was nearing completion—no more modeling sessions—and he had suspended his weekly spars with Sasuke, citing the need for physical recovery. For the first time in months, he slowed down.
Every detail of medical ninjutsu was etched into his mind. He refined his understanding step by step, using the Reality Stone to imprint knowledge into scrolls—burned with chakra to preserve the data. To avoid overreliance on the Stone, he cross-referenced theory and adjusted his focus, ensuring the information would remain even after deactivation. The Mystical Palm Technique and advanced healing methods were excluded—too risky without direct guidance.
"I have it now," he murmured. "Next step—apply Yang energy through practice. But I can't start on myself."
He paused, scanning his options. "I need something living… something with a simple structure. Fish."
A small, practical choice. Accessible. Ethical under shinobi training norms. And if he could heal without harming, all the better.
He stood, closing his books. "Time to stack up on supplies."