Waking up the next morning, the first thought that came to my mind was the Shadow Clone Jutsu. I remembered Daiken saying he would have to get approval from The Hokage since it was a forbidden jutsu. Still, given the look on Daiken's face when I had flared my chakra, I felt confident. I had proven my reserves were more than enough, and after everything, they seemed to trust me. Still, doubt always found a way into my heart, and worrying about it now would only shake my already unstable mental state even more. Shaking off those thoughts, I stood up slowly and began my morning routine.
With no Academy today since we were officially in summer vacation, I had time on my hands. Deciding to spend it wisely, I settled in the middle of my flat, breathing slowly, meditating quietly, trying to calm the relentless storm inside my head.
The morning sun gently filtered through my windows, warming my skin and highlighting my messy hair and slightly dark complexion from exposure while working out. For a moment, everything felt peaceful. But that peace was short-lived. A firm knock on my door pulled me back to reality. I opened my eyes, got up, and walked over to answer.
Standing in my doorway was a towering figure, broad enough to block nearly the entire frame.
"Daiken-sensei," I greeted, quickly stepping aside. "Please, come in."
Daiken nodded silently, stepping into my flat and glancing briefly around. It occurred to me that this was only his second visit here, the first being the tense encounter involving Root. This time felt less intense but equally significant.
Daiken turned toward me, holding out a sealed scroll. "Hokage-sama approved your request for the Shadow Clone Jutsu," he announced calmly.
I extended my hand to take the scroll, but Daiken didn't release it right away. His expression grew serious, his voice carrying the weight of responsibility.
"Noa," he started gravely, "the Shadow Clone Jutsu isn't like your usual illusions. This jutsu evenly splits your chakra to create solid, living copies of yourself. Each clone can think, fight, and use jutsu independently. They're not shadows. They're tangible, physical beings."
He paused briefly, ensuring I understood the gravity of his words.
"When these clones are dispersed, whether intentionally or from damage, their memories and experiences flow back to you immediately. Every injury, every moment of exhaustion, every painful lesson, your mind and body will not feel the pain, but it will feel the strain. One or two clones is manageable. More than that, and you risk overwhelming yourself."
He folded his arms thoughtfully.
"I've seen shinobi fall apart after pushing this technique too far, Noa. Strong, disciplined shinobi. Some collapsed physically, others never fully recovered mentally. This jutsu is a powerful tool, but it demands absolute respect and restraint. Always remember, your clones are reflections of yourself. If they suffer, you will carry their burden."
I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words deeply. My expression must have reassured him, because he finally handed the scroll to me fully.
"That goes without saying," Daiken added, "after you've learned this jutsu, return the scroll directly to me. And never teach it to anyone else. It's forbidden for a good reason. Even with your chakra reserves, limit yourself strictly to no more than two clones."
I nodded again in understanding. My rigorous training in fuinjutsu had shown Daiken and the Hokage that I was capable of keeping my word. They trusted me now, and I would not betray that trust.
Daiken's eyes softened as he gave me a faint, genuine smile. "You know, I'm proud to have a student like you, Noa. Your strength and resolve make this kind of investment worth it. But promise me one thing. Take care of yourself, for your own sake first, and then for the village."
There was sincerity in his voice that went beyond the usual teacher-student talk. Before I could respond or even thank him properly, he vanished, flickering out of sight in an instant.
With Daiken gone, the scroll felt heavier in my hand. Carefully, I opened it and began reading. Surprisingly, the Shadow Clone Jutsu itself was simple. It required only a single hand sign, the Tiger seal. But simplicity was deceptive. The chakra-shaping portion was detailed, explaining exactly how to mold and divide chakra to form stable clones. Even as I read, I fully understood why this jutsu was considered forbidden.
Creating one clone instantly meant halving my chakra reserves. Two clones split my chakra into thirds. Each additional clone would weaken me significantly, leaving me vulnerable. The scroll also mentioned advanced methods where users could fine-tune chakra distribution, but such mastery required extraordinary chakra control and practice.
Thankfully, both my reserves and chakra control were already exceptional. Still, I didn't want to be reckless. I decided not to rush into the final step yet. Instead, I spent the entire day practicing chakra molding, carefully studying every instruction and step detailed on the scroll. I trained relentlessly, refusing even to create a single clone until I felt completely confident in my ability to control the technique.
By sunset, exhaustion had sunk deep into my bones. I hadn't eaten, hadn't rested, and hadn't let myself think about anything except mastering the jutsu. It felt less like training and more like running. Like I was avoiding the chaos in my head by losing myself in the steps and seal. Under normal circumstances, given my physical and mental state, I knew better than to continue. But something deep down pushed me to try the technique at least once before I went to sleep. Reckless? Definitely. But facing the chaos in my head felt worse.
My gaze drifted upward, catching sight of the mural above me. It had always been a comforting presence, but tonight, it brought memories I had long buried. I found myself thinking about the life I left behind. A life that ended in darkness and was swallowed by it. I remembered clearly the image of myself strapped to that chair, surrounded by families of my victims, their angry eyes piercing into my soul. My reflection in the window glass had seemed so faint back then, as though I was already disappearing even before death claimed me. That faded reflection haunted my thoughts and took over my focus. My eyes stayed locked on an image that wasn't really there, yet it felt more real than anything else at that moment.
Lost in those troubling memories and haunted by the image, my fingers moved on their own, forming the Tiger seal without thinking. Subconsciously, I molded my chakra into shape. Before I even realized it, the chakra surged out of me and took form. A puff of smoke filled the flat as the jutsu activated.
When the smoke cleared, my heart stopped cold.
Standing before me wasn't the version of myself I expected to see. Instead, a haunting image stared back at me. A figure I hadn't seen since my execution on Earth. Thin, pale, battered by life and violence. Deep scars marred his body, and his eyes held a hollow look, filled with exhaustion and resignation. His head was shaved clean, and beneath the pale skin, those familiar yellow eyes held nothing but deep darkness.
My entire body shook, and my legs gave way beneath me, sending me collapsing to the floor. I scrambled backward, heart racing in terror as I stared up at the silent apparition in front of me.
It was him.
It was me.
It was everything I had fought to forget. Every fear and regret I had buried deep within my heart made real. Standing before me was a grim reminder of a past I could never fully escape.
A reflection of my true self.