Evening shadows stretched across Training Ground Eight as Asuma's voice carried through the cooling air.
"The Vacuum Sphere is one of the fundamental wind-style techniques," he explained, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "Unlike water or fire jutsu that create their elements, wind-style uses the air around us. We compress it, shape it, and release it."
Asuma stood under the fading light, his expression calm but focused.
"For a beginner, the hardest part is visualizing the compression," he began. "Most people think of wind as something flowing, but for this jutsu—" He formed three quick hand signs: Snake, Ram, Horse. "—you need to think of it as something solid."
With practiced precision, Asuma turned toward a thick oak tree at the edge of the clearing. His chest expanded slightly as he gathered air. Then, in one fluid motion, he released a perfectly spherical ball of compressed air.
The sphere struck the tree with devastating force, boring a clean hole through its trunk before exploding out the other side in a shower of splinters.
Jiraiya watched with a focused expression, observing each movement closely. He had told Asuma he was learning wind techniques to teach Naruto, though the truth was more complex. It wasn't just about understanding what Naruto would face. Jiraiya knew he would need mastery over wind himself to learn rasenshuriken.
"Now it's your turn," Asuma said, lighting a fresh cigarette as he gestured toward the remaining trees. "Remember—compression before projection. Most people try to force the air outward too quickly." He paused, studying Jiraiya's stance. "Though I have to admit, it feels a bit strange giving pointers to someone of your caliber."
"Alright, let's give this a try," Jiraiya said, grinning as he moved in front of another tree, forming the hand signs. Snake. Ram. Horse.
He took a deep breath, then exhaled sharply, releasing the jutsu. A sphere of wind burst from his mouth, spinning quickly as it shot toward the target. It wobbled in the air, struggling to stay together. Before it could reach its mark, the edges broke apart, and the sphere dissolved into a gust of wind, scattering harmlessly.
"The compression was uneven," Asuma observed, smoke curling from his cigarette. "Try maintaining consistent chakra output through the entire sequence."
Jiraiya nodded, raising his hands again. Snake. Ram. Horse.
This time, as he gathered his chakra, he focused intently on maintaining even compression, just as Asuma had described. The sphere that formed was smaller than Asuma's but more stable than his first attempt. It struck the tree with a sharp crack and bored halfway through before dissipating.
As expected of one of the Legendary Sannin, Asuma thought, taking a long drag from his cigarette. To Vacuum Sphere this quickly... he's in a class of his own. Even if this isn't his primary chakra nature, his raw talent is something else.
Little did he know, Jiraiya's wind affinity had far surpassed his primary affinity.
...
As the training intensified, the clearing transformed into a whirlwind of activity. Ten of Jiraiya's shadow clones dotted the area, each working on the Vacuum Sphere technique. The sound of rushing wind filled the air, mixed with the sharp crack of splintering wood.
The ground bore witness to their efforts. Broken trees and wood chips were scattered everywhere. Each clone seemed to be trying something slightly different—some focused on power, others on control.
In the midst of this controlled chaos, the real Jiraiya stood at the center, his face showing deep focus as he worked to perfect the technique. Asuma leaned against one of the few remaining intact trees, watching how quickly his temporary student was progressing.
The peaceful rhythm of their training was interrupted when an ANBU appeared in a swirl of leaves. The masked ninja landed silently beside them.
"Asuma-san," the ANBU said in a formal tone, "the clan head requests your presence."
Running a hand through his hair, Asuma pushed himself off the tree and put out his cigarette. The sun was already setting, casting orange light through the leaves.
"Same time tomorrow?" he asked Jiraiya. The growing darkness meant they would have had to stop soon anyway.
As Asuma turned to leave, Jiraiya watched his retreating back, his heart heavy with knowledge he wished he didn't have. In less than two years, Asuma would fall to Hidan of the Akatsuki. The thought of letting a good man—a future father—walk to his death made his stomach turn.
But changing the timeline wasn't simple. Save one life here, and who knows how many might die later because of that change? The weight of knowing the future had never felt more suffocating.
After a moment's internal struggle, Jiraiya made a decision.
"Hey, Asuma!" he called out.
When the younger ninja turned, Jiraiya added casually, "Ever heard of the Jashin religion? Nasty bunch."
Asuma raised an eyebrow, clearly confused by the random topic. "Never heard of them," he replied, lighting another cigarette. "Why bring it up?"
Jiraiya shrugged, trying to keep his voice light. "You know what? I think you'll like this story. I'll tell you more about it tomorrow."
He turned away, unable to meet Asuma's eyes.
At least now Asuma would have a fighting chance with the intel Jiraiya would provide him, and Jiraiya could live with that compromise between duty and conscience.
The rest would be up to fate.
.
.
.
.
[Author's note: I will continue after I have cleared my backlogs. It will take a while. Perhaps half an year. I will continue this after that.]