The underground training room was dimly lit, its walls lined with seals meant to suppress chakra signatures. A familiar setting. The same place where I had learned every fundamental ninjutsu up to this point.

The Root operative stood in front of me, his posture as rigid and emotionless as ever. His face, hidden behind a standard mask, betrayed nothing.

"This will be your final ninjutsu lesson," he stated.

His voice was cold, detached-just like every lesson before.

"Today, you will learn the Shadow Clone Jutsu."

I remained silent, my eyes locked onto his every movement.

"Unlike the basic Clone Jutsu, which only creates an illusion, the Shadow Clone Jutsu forms a real, tangible duplicate of the user. A perfect replica, capable of independent thought and action."

That was interesting.

A real duplicate. Not just a trick of the eyes, but an actual copy-a body indistinguishable from my own.

He continued, his tone methodical.

"However, this technique comes with a severe drawback. Your chakra is evenly divided among the clones you create. If you summon two clones, each of you will have one-third of your original chakra. Because of this, overuse can lead to extreme exhaustion or even death."

A dangerous trade-off.

The Root operative made a single hand sign.

"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu."

A puff of smoke appeared beside him, dissipating almost instantly to reveal a perfect copy.

I narrowed my eyes.

The second Root operative looked exactly the same-same stance, same build, same presence. But when the original moved slightly, the clone didn't mirror him. It remained independent.

Fascinating.

A technique that didn't just create a copy, but a separate will.

The clone turned its head slightly, looking at me.

For a split second, a thought surfaced.

What if one of them decides not to listen?

An independent entity, indistinguishable from the real one. If a clone had its own free will, what would stop it from rejecting orders? From acting outside of expectation?

The Root operative dispersed his clone with a thought, returning his gaze to me.

"Now, perform the technique.

I stepped forward.

The concept was simple. Divide chakra, manifest a clone. A single hand sign.

This wasn't just a technique.

It was a multiplication of the self.

I formed the hand sign and gathered my chakra. Precise control. At this point, my chakra efficiency had reached 93%-a level beyond even trained jonin.

I performed the jutsu.

Smoke filled the room.

When it cleared, I was alone.

Failure.

Not a concern. I had already felt where the chakra had dispersed incorrectly. Adjustments were simple.

I tried again.

The second attempt was a success.

Another version of me stood in front of me.

I looked at him. He looked at me.

I lifted a hand slightly. The clone didn't copy me.

It waited.

That confirmed it.

Not an extension of myself. Not a puppet. A second Aya-.. Shimura Kiyotaka.

A different will.

The implications were massive.

This wasn't just a jutsu to create copies-it was distributed existence. A way to be in multiple places at once. A way to gather different information simultaneously.

It was useful.

The Root operative observed without comment.

Not surprised. He had already adjusted to my learning speed.

Still, I noticed a faint shift in his stance-a recognition that I had once again met expectations without struggle.

I dismissed the clone with a thought. It vanished in a puff of smoke.

The Root operative nodded.

"Your training is complete."

With those words, he turned and left.

I stood in the quiet training hall for a few moments longer.

The walk back was silent. The underground corridors of Root were designed to eliminate distractions. No unnecessary sounds, no unnecessary thoughts.

The Shadow Clone Jutsu.

Its possibilities expanded in my mind.

I could use clones to gather intelligence without personal risk. I could train multiple skills at once. In theory, I could simulate multiple versions of myself making different choices and observe the results.

And yet...

I kept returning to the same question.

What if a clone chooses not to obey?

The technique was meant for obedient soldiers. It was designed under the assumption that the original's will remained dominant.

But I wasn't an obedient soldier.

If I myself was created as a "clone" of sorts-an artificial existence shaped by others-what was stopping me from rejecting my intended purpose?

Well, i guess the fact that i can turn off the technique..

I reached my quarters and shut the door behind me.

Alone again.

But now, I had something new to test.

"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu."

Smoke filled the room, and when it cleared, another version of me stood in front of me.

He blinked once, then observed his surroundings before locking eyes with me.

"So," I said, crossing my arms. "What do you think about being a clone?"

The clone tilted his head slightly, considering the question.

"I don't feel any different," he replied. "From my perspective, I am the original."

That was interesting.

He didn't see himself as a copy. To him, I could just as easily be the clone.

"What do you remember?" I asked.

"Everything you do."

I expected that. Shadow clones inherited the exact memories of their creator upon formation.

But I needed to confirm something deeper.

"If I asked you to fight me seriously, would you?"

"Of course."

He stepped back and cracked his knuckles.

"You want to see if we're truly equal, don't you?"

I gave a slow nod.

This was the real test.

A technique that duplicated everything should, in theory, create an opponent who was exactly as strong as the original.

There was only one way to be sure.

We moved to the center of the room, facing each other.

Both of us raised our hands into a fighting stance.

I could already tell-his posture was identical to mine. Every movement, every shift in weight-flawless replication.

We stood there for a moment.

Tension built in the air, the quiet hum of anticipation before the first strike.

Then we moved.

The clone dashed forward, launching the first attack. A straight punch aimed at my face.

I deflected it with my forearm and immediately countered with a low roundhouse kick.

The clone anticipated it and jumped back, narrowly dodging my foot as it sliced through the air.

No wasted movement. No hesitation.

I lunged, closing the distance. My left fist shot forward in a feint, drawing his guard up-before I twisted my body, shifting into a spinning back elbow.

The impact should have hit his temple.

But the clone raised his forearm at the last second, blocking it with precise timing.

He retaliated immediately-a palm strike toward my chest, aiming to break my balance.

I redirected his arm mid-motion and twisted it, going for a wrist lock.

For a split second, I thought I had him-

But he adjusted, shifting his body weight forward to neutralize my grip.

He countered with a sweep kick.

I leaped back, avoiding it, and as soon as my feet touched the ground, I sprang forward-using my momentum to drive my knee toward his ribs.

The clone blocked with both arms, absorbing the impact but sliding back from the force.

We locked eyes again.

Still even.

A brief moment of stillness before we both moved at the same time.

I attacked with a jab-cross combination, aiming for speed over power.

He dodged the first, deflected the second.

I adjusted instantly, dropping low into a shoot takedown, attempting to grab his legs.

The clone reacted perfectly-sprawling his body down and locking my arms before pushing me off.

I barely regained my footing when he retaliated with a roundhouse kick.

I ducked-

Only to see his knee already rising toward my face.

I shifted my head just in time, avoiding a direct hit but feeling the air pressure from his strike.

We separated again.

Still evenly matched.

I exhaled slowly.

It was clear now.

Every movement, every instinct-he mirrored me perfectly.

A battle between us would always result in a stalemate.

But there was one last thing I needed to confirm.

I lunged forward, faster than before. Instead of throwing a punch, I faked a strike and twisted my body at the last second-redirecting my momentum into a spinning heel kick.

It was the fastest move in my arsenal.

If he was truly equal, he would react the same way I would.

The clone's eyes sharpened.

And in that instant, he did exactly what I expected.

Instead of blocking, he twisted his body at the same time, launching the exact same kick.

Both of our attacks connected simultaneously.

An equal exchange.

The force canceled out, and we were both sent sliding back.

I planted my foot, regaining my balance.

The clone did the same.

A pause.

Silence.

Then, we both lowered our stances.

It was clear

We were the same.

A perfect mirror.

Neither of us could overpower the other.

This fight would never end in a decisive victory.

"A draw, huh?"

I nodded.

"Looks like it."

We stood there for a moment longer.

Then, with a simple thought, I dispelled him.

As I dispel the shadow clone, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion sweeps over me. My muscles ache as if I had fought twice the battle I just endured. Sweat trickles down my temple.

So, this is the real cost of using the Shadow Clone Jutsu.

It's an immediate realization. The chakra I used to create the clone didn't just return to me; the exhaustion from the battle I experienced as the original has doubled. This means that each clone is not merely an extension but an independent entity that consumes my stamina just as I would.

However, there's something else.

I close my eyes for a second. A flood of memories rushes into my mind-memories that aren't originally mine but belong to the clone. Every single movement, every counter, every thought process it had is now imprinted in my mind as if I had personally lived through them. The moment I raised my guard, the way I predicted my own feints, the precise timing of each counterattack-everything.

This changes everything.

If I can create multiple clones and assign them different training regimens, I can accumulate experience at an exponential rate.

Instead of repeating an exercise for hours, I could split the effort among several clones and gain all their experience in a fraction of the time. Alternatively, I could have them all perform the same technique over and over, stacking efficiency until I perfect it.

With this, my growth rate isn't just fast-it's unnatural.

As I stand there, analyzing this revelation, my door creaks open.

A masked figure steps in. The uniform is unmistakable-a Root operative.

"Danzo-sama has summoned you."

I stare at him for a brief second before nodding. No need for words.

I straighten my posture and follow him through the dimly lit corridors of the Root headquarters. The path is familiar. The cold air is suffocating, yet comforting in its predictability.

Danzo's office is shrouded in shadow as always. He stands behind his desk, his single visible eye unreadable as I kneel in the Root stance.

He speaks.

"I have received reports that your ninjutsu training is complete."

I keep my gaze lowered. "Yes."

Danzo remains silent for a second.

"The instructors have reported that your learning capacity is that of a prodigy."

I say nothing. Compliments, expectations, praise-none of these have any real meaning here.

Danzo steps forward. His presence is overbearing. He stares into my eyes, scrutinizing every inch of me.

"Do not mistake your abilities for individuality," he states, his tone void of warmth. "You are nothing more than a well-functioning machine. You will work. You will serve. You will be the most important piece in this system. I have high expectations for you."

I remain still. A machine. A tool. That's how he sees me.

It's a perspective I understand. It's not personal-it's an ideology. Root's philosophy is absolute detachment. In this place, emotions, personal desires, and identity do not exist. There is only the mission.

Danzo turns, retrieving a scroll from his desk.

"It is time for your first official mission."

He hands me the scroll. I unseal it and scan its contents.

Two names.

Itachi Uchiha

Shisui Uchiha

The descriptions are meticulous.

Itachi Uchiha (11 years old): Graduated the Academy at 7, became chunin at 10,
member of the ANBU Black Ops, highly skilled in genjutsu, taijutsu, and kenjutsu. Tactical genius.

Shisui Uchiha(14 years old): Nicknamed 'Shisui of the Body Flicker.' Jonin. Flee-on-sight order in effect. Master of Sharingan and high-speed combat. Possesses an unknown level of genjutsu prowess.

My eyes narrow slightly.

The Uchiha clan.

This settles it. The Uchiha have tne Sharingan. The Hyuga have the Byakugan.

Danzo wouldn't assign surveillance on mere ANBU members unless the Uchiha were of strategic importance.

Danzo speaks again.

"The Uchiha are under suspicion. Many in the village believe they were responsible for the Nine-Tails attack five and a half years ago. Tensions between them and the village leadership are rising. If things continue as they are, a civil war is inevitable."

The phrasing catches my attention.

"Were responsible." Not "are suspected." The wording implies an assumption of guilt.

I analyze this carefully. The Nine-Tails attack was a catastrophic event, but there's a missing link. Why is the Uchiha clan being blamed?

The Sharingan.

Can the Sharingan control the Nine-Tails? If so, how?

Danzo continues. "Your mission is to observe Itachi and Shisui. Do not engage. They often train in the forests outside the village. That will be your opportunity to gather intelligence on them and their interactions. However, you are not permitted to enter the Uchiha compound. Not yet."

A limitation. Expected, but noted.

Observation, not direct confrontation. This isn't about assessing their abilities-it's about uncovering information about their intentions and the state of the clan.

Danzo's underlying objective is clear. If war breaks out, the village will need an advantage. Surveillance, preparation, intelligence-he wants to know where to strike.

I close the scroll and return to a kneeling position.

"Understood."

Danzo waves his hand dismissively. "Go."

I stand, turn, and walk out of the room.