The moment the last weight hit the ground, Naruto felt it — a stupid, giddy lightness that made his chest buzz.
He planted his feet and tried a small hop to test it out. The hop exploded into altitude; he shot up like a cork, landing two trees over with a goofy whoop.
"Woah — I feel light as a feather!" he laughed, spinning on the branch and grinning like an idiot.
He bounced along the limbs, barefoot toes finding tiny notches, moving with the carefree rhythm of a kid on a playground.
He pulled his orange jumpsuit back on, the fabric brushing against bare skin, and went through a tight warm-up: neck rolls, shoulder circles, quick kicks that sliced the air.
The shadow clones watched him with blank, perfect synchrony — like an audience waiting for the curtain to fall.
When the warm-up finished, Naruto lined himself up. He planted his toes, focused his breath, and launched.
WOOSH.
Air screamed past him. The world became streaks of green and brown. He was faster — not just quicker, but cleaner. His feet clipped branches without a tremor; leaves barely stirred where he stepped.
The sound of his movement shrank to a hush, swallowed by light body.
He bounced over low trunks, slammed off a steep root, and then surged up the slope toward a tall hill. At the crest he leapt without hesitation, arms spread wide as he flew for a beat that felt like forever.
Wind hammered into his face, hair whipping wild, and adrenaline struck him straight in the chest.
"Woohoo!!!" he screamed, the sound ripping free, half-laugh, half-joy.
He folded in midair, tucking into a barrel roll that ate the distance. He hit the tree line, absorbed the fall by rolling across trunks and out onto a sprint — a fluid, continuous motion that tasted of speed and power.
A river cut through the forest ahead. Naruto didn't brake. He drove his feet, pumping chakra into the soles, and the surface greeted him with a spray.
Each step made a thin ring of ripples that shivered outward; his momentum never broke. For ten wicked, perfect minutes he ran the forest like it belonged to him: vaulting, weaving, breathing in the raw, clean air.
When he finally slammed to a skid in his campsite, dirt and leaves exploded behind him. He forced himself to stop, chest heaving, a grin stuck so wide it hurt.
The clones — applauded.
Naruto bowed his head with mock solemnity, like a performer taking applause. Inside, his heart pounded with something warmer than pride.
'God, that was awesome. Best feeling ever. I don't think I'll ever get bored of that.'
He popped his hands together and molded shadow clones — five perfect images, each untethered to weight like him. They blinked into being, mirroring his stance, eyes blank until he spoke. The forest around them held its breath; needles and leaf litter lay undisturbed, a thin veil of mist catching the morning light in slow, trembling threads.
"Time to test my speed against them," he said aloud, voice bright and hungry. A bird cried somewhere far off; the sound felt like a metronome.
The clones spread, circling with crisp, economical footwork. They moved like reflections in a smashed mirror — same rhythm, small differences. Naruto unsheathed a kunai, the metal catching a sliver of sunlight and throwing it back like a dare. The blade's edge winked; a scent of cold steel cut the soft wood-smell of pines.
"All right — there are no rules," he commanded, voice steady, every word a promise. "Use any weapon. Fight me with the intent to kill."
Their eyes turned from idle to a subtle glare that exuded a deadly aura. The nearest clone breathed out slow, deliberate, a soldier's preparation; another twitched his fingers, summoning a second kunai and spinning it between two fingers as if testing weight. One folded into a low crouch, hips coiled like a spring. The others fanned out, creating angles, cutting off retreat lines.
"Alright!" one clone barked, impatient and too eager.
"What's gonna happen if we kill the original?" another asked, curiosity threading through the menace.
"No idea," the first said, smiling with an edge. "But I'd like to find out."
The air tightened. Five pairs of feet pressed lightly against the earth — one heartbeat of stillness before chaos.
Fwoosh!
All five lunged at once.
Naruto's eyes widened. ' No time to think.' The first clone came in low, a sweeping kick that blurred through the grass. He jumped — but midair, another clone's fist was already driving toward his ribs.
Thmp!
The blow connected half-clean, enough to steal his breath and throw him off balance. He twisted, landing hard on one knee, dirt biting into skin. A shadow loomed—another clone diving from above, leg extended for a brutal axe kick.
Wham!
Naruto rolled sideways; the kick split the ground where he'd been, cracking the soil. He didn't even get a full breath before a forearm caught him in the jaw. The world flashed white for a second.
"Too slow, original!" one clone barked, laughing through gritted teeth.
Naruto spat blood, a thin red line across his chin. "Tch… shut up!"
He ducked under a straight punch, blocked a second with his wrist, then felt the impact of a third from behind — a spinning elbow that crashed into his shoulder.
Thud!
The momentum sent him forward, right into a kick from the front.
Smack!
He stumbled back three steps, coughing, kunai slipping from his grip and embedding itself into the dirt.
"Come on!" he roared, trying to rally. He threw a wild hook — one clone caught it, twisted his arm, and pulled. Naruto flipped with the motion, barely regaining footing before another came in with a flying knee.
Bam!
He blocked with both arms, the shock trembling through his bones. Sweat slicked his palms, breath coming ragged now. He wasn't holding back — but neither were they.
The clones pressed him mercilessly, every strike filling the space between his movements.
A left jab — he parried.
A low kick — he checked with his shin.
But behind that, another punch blurred toward his face.
Crack!
He barely tilted aside in time, feeling the wind scrape his cheek.
Naruto growled, spinning into a backhand that caught one clone across the face, dispelling it in a puff of smoke.
Pffft!
"Ha! One down—"
A kick slammed into his back before he finished the thought.
Thud!
He lurched forward, right into an uppercut that snapped his head back.
Stars danced in his vision. His clones didn't hesitate; they smelled weakness.
They drove in tighter now, formation narrowing. One went for his legs, another for his torso, the last two feinting high and low to split his guard.
He blocked one — Pak! — but caught a knee to the gut — Thmp! — and felt the air rush out of him. He staggered, dropped to a knee.
The world sounded like heartbeat and gravel.
"Pathetic," one clone hissed, kicking him in the ribs. Naruto grunted, skidding through dust. His arm trembled as he pushed himself up.
But his grin returned, small and sharp. "Heh… looks like I underestimated my own jutsu."
He spat again, wiped his mouth, and straightened. His body screamed, but his eyes — bright and fierce — burned with stubborn life.
The clones hesitated, just a flicker.
Naruto's stance shifted: lower, tighter. His fingers curled, breathing slow and even. The ground crunched softly as he adjusted his footing.
"All right," he said quietly. "Round two."
They lunged again — four blurs, one storm.
Bam! Whack! Pak! Shff!
This time, Naruto didn't dodge everything — he flowed through them, every hit absorbed or redirected, his counterstrikes measured but fierce. He ducked under a hook, smashed an elbow into a chest. Thud
Spun low to sweep another's legs. Fwip!
Only to eat a kick in the side that made him grunt.
Pain, rhythm, motion.
It wasn't pretty — it was raw, desperate, real Taijutsu.
TO BE CONTINUED