Kapitel 280: 279-Grand Design

The cave loomed, an imposing sanctuary nestled between the lands of Hot Water and Frost, where few dared to wander and hence knew nothing about it. Hidden behind a cascade of jagged rocks and thick vines, it was a place forgotten by time.

Inside, shadows danced across rough, damp stone walls, their movements dictated by thin rays of sunlight that pierced the ceiling through cracks in the rock. The beams were faint, like hesitant intruders, illuminating the cavern in a wavering, almost eerie light that added to the place's oppressive aura.

The air was thick and stale, carrying with it the sharp scent of damp earth and decay, a scent reminiscent of graves. Near one of the cave's edges, there lay a broken-down bed.

The frame was twisted, its once-sturdy wood now splintered and warped with age. A thin layer of grime coated the tattered mattress, which had sagged in the middle, collapsing under years of neglect. Threadbare sheets faded beyond recognition, clung to the bed in sad tatters, each fiber coated in dust and webbed with thick, sticky spider silk.

Bowls sat scattered on the ground beside the bed, cracked and chipped, half-buried in layers of dust and earth. These relics looked as if they hadn't been touched in decades, their surfaces caked with mold and streaks of age-old grime.

The dull gleam of metal hinted at rust eating away at their once-smooth surfaces. One bowl had a spider's nest tucked inside, tiny, newly hatched spiders crawling along its rim as though the bowl had become a part of the cavern's ecosystem.

On the far side of the cave, standing in silent malevolence, was a massive stone statue. Its grotesque features were lost in shadows, but the jagged lines and twisted form suggested agony, a tormented figure caught in a silent scream. Thick veins of stone stretched across its body, each one pulsating with dark energy as if it were an ancient conduit of power.

It loomed ominously, with hollow, empty eyes staring into the darkness, and massive hands, clawed and outstretched, seemed to reach toward the sky in a terrible, eternal plea.

The aura it exuded was stifling, an oppressive presence that hung heavily in the air, as though the statue were alive, watching, waiting.

In the heart of the cavern, seated on a simple, unadorned chair, was an old man. His form was still, wrapped in silence, a figure of patience and relentless focus. The flickering beams of light illuminated his face, casting shadows that highlighted the deep lines etched into his skin.

His features were sharp, aged, and his skin had taken on a pale, almost ashen tone, as if his life force had slowly drained away. Wisps of hair, white as bone and hanging down to his waist, obscured his right eye.

Only his left eye was visible, and in its socket, the unmistakable red of the Sharingan glimmered softly, its three tomoe spinning as he observed the statue before him.

For several long moments, he remained still, his breathing slow and steady, as though lost in meditation. Then, with a low hiss, his eyelids opened wider, and he gazed out at the statue before him. His breaths came shallow, then deeper, the sound echoing in the cave's silence as if amplified by the stillness around him.

He closed his eyes again, retreating into the depths of his mind, but minutes later, his eyes snapped open again, his breathing more laboured this time, each inhale drawn with visible effort.

He could feel it: the slow, inevitable decline of his chakra. His body, once powerful and full of vigour, was now a vessel wearing thin, and each time he tried to channel his energy into the statue, it left him feeling drained, closer to his final breath.

It had become harder with each passing year. Channelling his chakra through the colossal statue, once a simple task, now required everything he had. Every time he directed his energy into the stone, he could feel his life ebb away, which was quite ironic as it was the source of his long life.

Yet he persisted, pushing through the pain and weariness that threatened to consume him. There was still work to be done. Time was a luxury he could no longer afford; he had to see his vision fulfilled before his frail body finally surrendered to age.

Suddenly, the silence of the cave was interrupted by a faint rustling, a movement that seemed to come from the ground itself. The old man's eyes opened, the red of the Sharingan now replaced with a pattern of purple rings—a Rinnegan.

His left eye gleamed with an ethereal light as he stared intently at the ground before him. From the earth, a figure began to rise, emerging like a ghostly wraith from the shadows. It was humanoid in shape, its body chalk-white and devoid of distinct features, save for two slits where eyes would be and a twisted, half-smiling mouth. Its limbs were slender, almost skeletal, and its form seemed to merge with the shadows around it as if it were a creature of darkness itself.

The old man's voice, raspy and hoarse, broke the silence. "Have you found them?"

The creature nodded, its head moving in slow, deliberate motions. "Yes. I have found three of them. They were not difficult to track down."

The old man's expression did not change, but his gaze sharpened, his focus entirely on the creature. "And you are certain they all possess the Senju bloodline?"

"Yes," the creature replied, its voice hollow, detached. "All three have traces of Senju lineage. We only need to choose one."

A silence settled between them, thick and tense. The old man's eyes narrowed slightly as he pondered the information. He did not respond immediately, retreating into thought, weighing the choice carefully.

His body may have been frail, but his mind was as sharp as ever, calculating each possibility with precision. He knew he had to make the right selection; his grand design depended on it.

The creature tilted its head, as if uncertain, then spoke again, its tone almost questioning. "Why are we specifically looking for those with the Senju bloodline? We already have the other one with the Uchiha bloodline. Wouldn't he be more suitable for your plans?"

The old man's lips curled into a thin, humourless smile, his eyes still closed. "Yes, he would be suitable," he replied, his voice soft but laced with authority.

"But we require one with Senju blood. The balance of power must be maintained, and the Senju lineage will serve as a vital component. An Uchiha can come later when the time is right."

The creature seemed to nod in understanding, though a trace of confusion lingered in its expression. The old man's methods and motives were quite unclear, layered with contingencies that only he could fully understand. Still, the creature had learned to obey without question, trusting in the old man's judgment.

After a moment, the old man's expression turned thoughtful. "What news from Kirigakure?"

"The Mizukage is still recuperating," the creature reported, its tone tinged with disdain. "If we're going to move there, it should be now, while he is still weak."

The old man gave a slow nod, the gesture deliberate and measured. "Yes… now would be the perfect time. Find someone suitable there. I do not care who, as long as they fulfil our needs."

The creature inclined its head once more, acknowledging the order. For a moment, it seemed to linger, waiting for any additional instructions, but the old man had already closed his eyes, his breathing evening out as he resumed his meditation. Without another word, the creature sank back into the ground, melding into the shadows as it left to carry out its master's will.

Silence reclaimed the cave. The statue loomed in the shadows, casting a long, ominous presence that was palpable even in the absence of light. The old man sat in stillness, merging with the solitude around him.

Though age had worn down his body, his spirit remained unyielding, driven by a purpose that burned with a cold, relentless fire. He had sacrificed everything in his pursuit of this vision, pouring years into meticulous planning, and he would not allow death to claim him before it was realized.

---

Far from the shadowed depths of the cave, Renjiro sat cross-legged on a mat, staring down at the parchment in front of him. Intricate symbols, patterns, and lines crisscrossed its surface, forming a complex network that he was slowly beginning to decipher. His fingers traced over the ink, feeling the marks beneath his fingertips, absorbing the meaning of each stroke.

He looked up at Kushina, who stood across from him, her arms crossed and a pleased expression on her face, as if she were watching a student make his first breakthrough.

"Are you sure this is the translation?" Renjiro asked, raising his eyebrows in uncertainty.

Kushina chuckled softly. "It's not a direct translation, but it'll help us integrate the chakra absorption ability into the Rashomon gates. With this, the gates will be able to absorb chakra from any attack, fortifying your defences."

Renjiro's eyes glimmered with newfound understanding. He turned back to the parchment, a faint smile playing on his lips. The possibilities were beginning to take shape, and as he traced his finger over the patterns, he felt the thrill of untapped potential coursing through him.

=====

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Kapitel 281: 280- Promised Spar

Renjiro stood in the clearing, surrounded by lush green forest under the golden afternoon sun. The air was alive with a crispness that seemed to spark his senses as he took in a deep breath, feeling his chakra settle within him, calm and ready to be shaped.

He and Kushina had been working tirelessly for nearly two days, putting theory into practice, refining and recalibrating, each modification aimed at enhancing the function of the Rashomon gates.

The training grounds Kushina had chosen were expansive and secluded, an ideal spot for complex jutsu experimentation by the closely guarded Jinchuriki.

"Alright," Renjiro muttered, steeling himself. He squared his stance, fingers poised and ready to perform the hand signs. "Here goes nothing."

One by one, he formed the new sequence of hand seals: Tiger, Snake, Horse, Rat, Ox, Dragon, Bird, Rat again, Dragon once more, and finally, Tiger.

Each sign flowed seamlessly into the next, yet Renjiro could feel the weight of the complex series. This wasn't a standard sequence, and it required immense focus to summon the gates in their modified form. The process was precise; every symbol, every gesture, was a key to summoning the intricate gates they wanted.

A rush of chakra surged from his core, spreading out like a wave that echoed with power as it interacted with the air around him. In an instant, the ground rumbled beneath him as seven colossal gates materialized before him.

The Rashomon gates were stunning. More robust than before, they appeared rooted to the earth as though they had been summoned from the very bedrock.

Each gate now bore a more imposing figure, carved intricately into the metal, with eyes that seemed to come alive, glowing faintly with an azure sheen. The metallic surface of the gates caught the sunlight, shimmering with a cool, blue radiance that seemed almost otherworldly.

This was a far cry from the basic form of the Rashomon gates Renjiro had mastered before. The sheer magnitude of their power was palpable, even without the Sharingan to tell him how the energy flowed through them.

Kushina's eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she approached. "They look different, don't they?" she asked, a hint of pride in her tone.

Renjiro nodded, studying the gates intently. "They're… sturdier. More imposing." He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "The changes you suggested made a difference."

Kushina chuckled. "We simplified the equation. Translating the hand seals into their fūinjutsu variants allowed us to fit the chakra drain jutsu-shiki seamlessly into the new jutsu matrix."

Their process over the last day and a half had been meticulous. They had started by deconstructing the standard sequence of hand signs used to summon the Rashomon gates, translating each one into its corresponding fūinjutsu symbol. Despite the increase of marginal error during the translation.

By doing this, they could make adjustments directly to the formula, rather than the hand seals themselves. They inserted the chakra drain matrix into the existing structure, allowing the gates to passively absorb and utilize the chakra of any incoming attack.

Then, they translated the modified formula back into hand signs, resulting in a more extensive, complex sequence. Yet both of them had deemed the trade-off worth it, even if it demanded faster execution from Renjiro.

Renjiro gazed at the towering gates. "It seems like the chakra drain is passive," he remarked, his Sharingan spinning as he analyzed the interaction between the gates and the environment.

Chakra threads flowed into the gates, weaving into the structure and reinforcing it, feeding off the ambient energy and forming a near-perfect defensive barrier.

"Good. It would've been a hassle if I had to keep adjusting it manually."

Kushina crossed her arms, her expression one of pure satisfaction. "And? How does it feel?"

Renjiro smiled, his gaze still fixed on the gates. "It's solid. Stronger than I expected, especially for a first try."

"Good," she replied. "Now, let's see how much they can take."

For the next hour, Renjiro and Kushina tested the gates' durability, assaulting them with every technique in their arsenal. They took turns summoning the gates, watching each time as they sprang up with that same unwavering power.

Kushina summoned her Adamantine Chains, lashing them against the gates with devastating force, the chains crashing against the blue-tinged metal with a resounding clang. Sparks flew, illuminating the clearing, but the gates held firm, absorbing each blow with an almost serene acceptance.

"Not bad," Kushina admitted, retracting her chains after another round of attacks. She observed the gates with an appraising look, taking in the faint energy radiating from their glowing eyes.

"This is strong."

Renjiro nodded in agreement. 'It could always be better,' he thought to himself, eyeing the gates critically, but for now, they had done well. The upgrades had proven successful beyond their initial expectations.

"But," Renjiro said suddenly, deactivating his Adamantine Chains as he glanced at Kushina with a glint of mischief in his eyes, "there's one more test we haven't done."

Kushina raised an eyebrow, her brows furrowing in suspicion. "What test?"

Renjiro took a deep breath, as if weighing his words carefully, and then said,

"Let's see if they can withstand a Tailed Beast Bomb."

There was a pause, followed by a deadpan expression on Kushina's face as she stared at him in disbelief. And then, suddenly, she broke into laughter—a rich, hearty laugh that echoed through the training grounds, startling a few birds into flight from the nearby trees.

"You can't be serious!" she managed between laughs. But as she caught sight of Renjiro's unchanging expression, her laughter slowly faded, and her smile wavered.

"Oh… you were serious."

Renjiro tilted his head, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "So, is that a no?"

Kushina gave him a look of exasperation, sighing as she shook her head. "Why on earth would you think that using a Tailed Beast Bomb here in the village is a good idea?" She folded her arms, leaning forward slightly. "And just how do you even know that Jinchuriki can do that?"

Realizing his mistake of slipping up, Renjiro's smile faltered briefly, but he quickly masked it, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just curious, I guess. So… is that a no?"

Kushina smirked, placing her hands on her hips. "First, become Hokage, and then maybe I'll consider it."

Renjiro's face lit up, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So, the issue is the Hokage?" he countered playfully.

"What if someone close to you becomes Hokage? Will you agree to test it then?" He paused, meeting her gaze with a spark of challenge.

"Or better yet, will we have a spar where you won't hold back?"

Kushina blinked, taken aback by his audacity, before giving him a long, appraising look.

"You're… strange," she finally said, shaking her head with a chuckle. "Fine. I suppose if you—or anyone close to me—ever become Hokage, then maybe we can have a spar," she added, shooting him a warning look.

Renjiro only grinned wider, her words spurring him on. He could already picture it—a true match with Kushina Uzumaki, with neither of them holding back. The very thought was enough to fuel his determination even further.

Kushina watched him carefully, the smile on her face softening. She knew that Hiruzen, the Third Hokage, was well into his golden years. Yet, despite his age, he remained vigorous and steadfast, leading the village with unwavering strength and wisdom.

She didn't foresee him stepping down anytime soon, and for a moment, the idea of Renjiro aiming for the role seemed like nothing more than youthful ambition.

But seeing his joy at her agreement, a subtle unease prickled in her chest. She had the nagging feeling she might have just made a promise that would come back to haunt her.

Renjiro turned back to her, his eyes gleaming with unrestrained excitement. "Thanks, Kushina," he said, giving her a genuine smile. "For everything."

With a quick nod, Renjiro raised his fingers in a half-seal, and with a soft poof, he vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving the training grounds as silent as they had been before.

---

Back in the floating islands, Renjiro sat cross-legged, his eyes closed, his mind focused.

He took a deep breath, and as he did, a sudden influx of memories flooded his mind—the recollections from his shadow clone at the training grounds, the sights, sounds, and feelings as vivid as if he were still there. Renjiro's eyes opened slowly, his gaze steady as he absorbed all he had gained from the session.

"It seems the first round of modifications went well," he murmured to himself, his tone low but pleased. And then, a small smirk tugged at his lips.

"And I also got a promised spar with Kushina?"

He chuckled softly, the mere thought of it fueling his resolve. If he could attain Kage-level strength before or during the next war, that spar could become a reality.

Yet, he knew the challenge ahead of him was monumental. He had the Sharingan, but going up against a Jinchuriki, especially one with the formidable Kurama within, would be another matter entirely.

The last encounter with the Nine-Tails had left him wary; he was certain Kushina would have more than a few tricks up her sleeve.

But even with the odds against him, he couldn't help but feel an exhilarating thrill. This was the kind of ambition that kept him moving forward, the kind that lit a fire in his heart and made every struggle worth it.