Naruto: Stormbreaker

Chapter 59: Chapter 59

I took a deep breath. Almost every clan kid was eyeing me like a young master staring at a jade beauty holding an immortality fruit. Very uncomfortable. I mean, I get it. I do know I’m a jade beauty, but still, my eyes are up here, you know.

After class ended, Shizuru predictably rushed toward me. Since she practically stuck to me at all times, I knew exactly what she wanted. Before she could even speak, I cut in, making sure my voice was loud, clear, and firm enough for everyone nearby to hear.

”I’ll aim for someone whose body is closer to mine, and you should too. It’ll make performing the jutsu much easier.” I looked down at her with a teasing smirk. ”You’re too small. Eat more, work out even more, and then maybe we can discuss it.”

Her eyes widened, then quickly narrowed with accusation. I could practically see the thought of hitting my shoulder flicker through her head before she recalled what happened to her hand the last time she tried. Wisely, she backed down and settled for the classic puffed cheeks of silent protest.

My clear criteria didn’t stop the other clan kids from approaching me, despite most being obviously unsuitable. Sena was smart enough not to bother asking, knowing she’d be rejected and risk lowering her carefully cultivated image. Instead, she just smiled pleasantly as other clan kids eagerly approached her to propose cooperation. Meanwhile, Kaen kept silently glaring daggers at me, as usual.

However, the real surprise was Misaki Hyuga, who approached me as cautiously as someone approaching a live explosive. She fidgeted nervously, holding her hands tightly together and avoiding my eyes completely. Eventually, she mumbled in a barely audible voice, ”Ca... can we wo...work together?”

She looked as if she desperately wanted to continue but simply couldn’t. Internally, I screamed. Rejecting her felt akin to clubbing an innocent baby seal with my bare hands, but I steeled myself and replied in the most strategic way I could muster.

”I’m sorry, Misaki, but we’re not suited for it,” I said gently, hoping she’d catch the hint that I wasn’t only referring to the jutsu partnership. She nodded meekly, her face turning a shade so vividly red I was half-convinced steam would burst from her ears. Sighing quietly, I mentally noted to find a time soon when I could straightforwardly explain that I wasn’t interested and never would be.

Finally, someone I had actually been hoping for approached me, Genta Senju. The boy was intelligent, strong, and an overall decent person from what I saw. Since I’d already decided earlier to try and get closer to him, he seemed like the best possible partner. Within our class, he was physically the closest to my own build. I was still taller and somewhat bigger, but the difference wasn’t nearly as pronounced as with the others.

”Hi Noa,” he began with a friendly smile. ”How about we work together for this exercise, since we’re the closest in body shape within the class?”

Exactly my thoughts. I nodded and returned the smile. ”Seems like you’re right. I’m looking forward to cooperating with you.”

He smiled wider and firmly shook my hand. Despite his friendly demeanor, I could sense the enormous strength hidden within his grip. I smiled inwardly, thinking, ”This should be interesting.”

We began training together immediately, taking advantage of the time Daiken had given us to master the jutsu. True to expectation, Genta approached our sessions with quiet confidence and surprising efficiency, making the whole process far less frustrating than I’d initially expected.

On our first afternoon, we found a relatively quiet spot in the training grounds and began discussing the jutsu before practicing the hand seals.

I watched closely as Genta carefully performed the transformation hand seals for the third time. His chakra smoothly enveloped him, shaping into a surprisingly decent imitation of me. Not perfect, but definitely in the right direction. I circled him critically, deciding to give my evaluation.

”I know you’re thrilled about copying my handsome features,” I drawled sarcastically, smirking. ”But you’re missing my signature look of eternal disappointment.”

Genta chuckled lightly, voice distorted slightly by the imperfect transformation. ”I figured your personality was too complicated for a first attempt.”

I laughed softly at that. His transformation wasn’t fully stable yet, but overall, it was solid. More importantly, Genta himself was proving annoyingly likable, friendly enough to approach, yet firm and focused enough to keep our training productive. I hadn’t had many chances to interact with him during our first year, as Daiken had never paired us in sparring. We’d both been used as pace-setters, and fighting each other would’ve defeated that purpose.

Now it was my turn. Forming the seals with deliberate control, I clearly visualized Genta, broad shoulders, steady stance, easygoing smile. I felt my chakra stabilize as the jutsu took hold.

Genta studied my transformation, tilting his head thoughtfully. ”Pretty good. Though, I don’t think I smirk quite that much.”

”Well, you probably should,” I replied casually, stretching slightly in his broad form. ”It’d definitely suit you.” Similar to his attempt, my transformation was still somewhat shaky and unstable.

Over the following days, we fell into an easy training rhythm. Each session began with quick feedback, followed by multiple transformation attempts. Genta improved consistently, never once letting frustration break through his calm exterior. After every attempt, he’d pause thoughtfully, nod slightly, and start again, quietly noting any minor errors he’d made previously. It quickly became apparent he was meticulous, disciplined, and quite honestly impressive. He was almost like a superior version of myself, minus my unmatched charm and the emotional baggage heavier than tungsten.

Not that I’d ever admit it openly. My compliments were limited strictly to sarcastic comments, and even then, sparingly.

By the third day, Genta had nearly perfected my image. He glanced at me, clearly pleased but maintaining a modest expression.

”Almost,” I conceded reluctantly, exaggerated for dramatic effect. ”You still haven’t captured my overwhelming awesomeness yet.”

”Guess I’ll have to keep practicing, then,” he responded smoothly, not missing a beat.

As the week progressed, Genta began weaving casual conversation into our training. Small talk mostly, sprinkled with insights into his clan life. He never pushed too far or overshared, providing just enough measured openness to invite trust without demanding it.

One afternoon, after I’d finally pulled off a successful transformation following several close attempts, Genta let out a low whistle of genuine appreciation. ’You’ve definitely got this down faster than most.”

”Talent,” I said simply, shrugging broad shoulders. ”Plus, I have the advantage of practicing with someone competent.”

Genta shook his head, smiling softly. ”Coming from you, I’ll take that as a glowing compliment.”

”You should,” I agreed, reverting to myself and flexing my fingers casually. I rarely gave sincere compliments, but he genuinely deserved it. He was friendly, approachable, and effortlessly genuine. A killer combo, honestly.

Seems like not all kids are annoying little sh*ts. Occasionally, you find a hidden gem.

Genta laughed quietly, relaxed and sincere. ”I’ll make sure to savor it, then.”

On our final training day, Genta stood across from me with steady determination in his eyes, clearly intent on perfection. He executed the seals precisely, chakra smoothly enveloping him. His form shimmered briefly, then solidified into an uncanny replica of myself.

I stared for a moment. Every detail was exact. The slightly messy hair, subtle smirk, even my usual look of mild perpetual annoyance. His stance matched mine perfectly, relaxed yet ready.

Genta raised an eyebrow exactly as I would and spoke in a half decent imitation of my voice, dripping with sarcastic boredom. ”Impressed yet? Or should I dial up the arrogance to make it more convincing?”

I blinked once, then twice, before giving him an appreciative nod. ”Alright, I admit it. That was impressive. And mildly disturbing.”

He relaxed back into himself, quietly satisfied. ”Took me all week, but I finally caught your unique brand of charm.”

”Well, close enough,” I replied jokingly as I stretched. ”Careful, though. Imitate me too well and you’ll have a lot of drama to deal with.”

Genta chuckled, shaking his head. ”I’ll take my chances.”

I smiled inwardly. Despite all my teasing, I had to give credit where it was due. Genta Senju never took my comments personally. He was sharp, focused, and just decent enough that I didn’t regret choosing him.

At the session’s end, he shook my hand firmly, nodding respectfully, signaling clearly that despite his friendly demeanor, he had treated our training seriously.

Turns out, training with Genta Senju might have been one of my smarter decisions.