Shadow Clone First Formed
“You want to learn the Shadow Clone, don’t you?” Old Tanaka stood up slowly, stretched his stiff shoulders, and said in a deep voice, “While there is still time, I will teach you.”
Sato Fan heard this and immediately followed Old Tanaka to the open space behind the warehouse.
This place was even more secluded than the front yard, enclosed by walls covered in lush green vines, with weeds growing sporadically on the ground—an excellent place for training.
Old Tanaka turned to face Sato Fan and began to explain in detail: “The Shadow Clone is a B-rank Ninjutsu.
Its principle is completely different from the Clone Technique you learned at the Ninja Academy.
The Clone Technique only creates illusions with no physical substance, and they cannot launch attacks.
However, the Shadow Clone creates a physical clone, flesh and blood, capable of both offense and defense, and can even help you share your workload.”
As he spoke, he raised his hands to demonstrate the hand signs: “The sequence of signs is Zi, Chou, Yin, Mao, Chen, Si—all six signs are indispensable.
Once you have practiced to perfection, you can simplify it to a single sign, but for now, you must follow the sequence honestly.”
Sato Fan stared intently at Old Tanaka’s hand gestures, silently memorizing them over and over in his mind.
“Try it yourself.” Old Tanaka waved his hand, his tone indifferent.
“It doesn’t matter if you fail the first time.
For this Ninjutsu, it is considered fast if a normal person can master it in one or two months.”
Sato Fan took a deep breath, slowly raised his hands, and performed the six signs in order.
He then mobilized the Chakra in his body, trying to separate it and shape it into an independent form.
But there was no movement around him; no white smoke rose, no clone appeared, and there wasn’t even a trace of Chakra fluctuation.
He froze in place, his hands still maintaining the Si sign, his fingertips slightly stiff, and the situation was somewhat awkward for a moment.
Old Tanaka glanced at him and pointed out the problem expressionlessly: “Your Chakra didn’t keep up.
While performing the hand signs, you must bring the Chakra up from your Dantian and guide it through your arms to your fingertips.
Just moving your hands without moving the Chakra is merely having the form without the substance.”
Sato Fan silently lowered his hands, adjusted his breathing, and refocused.
He had spent six years in the Ninja Academy, and his basic training in Chakra control had never been neglected—tree climbing, water walking, and leaf sticking were all solid.
However, the logic of the Shadow Clone was completely different.
Previous training involved keeping Chakra within his body to control it, while the Shadow Clone required completely separating the Chakra to condense it into an independent entity—this was an entirely unfamiliar method of control.
He raised his hands again.
While performing the hand signs, he steadily drew Chakra from his abdomen and sent it to his fingertips along his arms.
The Chakra gathered at his fingertips, like compressed airflow, ready to be released.
“Bang.”
A muffled sound rang out, and white smoke suddenly exploded.
When the smoke dissipated, a blurry figure appeared beside Sato Fan.
But it was not a complete Shadow Clone; it was just a translucent outline, without facial features or physical substance, like a wisp of light smoke shaped into a human form.
The phantom swayed twice and then vanished instantly, like smoke blown away by the wind.
Sato Fan looked in the direction where the phantom had dissipated, was silent for two seconds, and asked, “What is this supposed to mean?”
“It means failure.” Old Tanaka said bluntly, “The Chakra distribution was uneven, the amount separated was insufficient, and it failed to condense into a stable form.
Feel it carefully—how much Chakra did you separate just now?”
Sato Fan closed his eyes, sensing the consumption of Chakra in his body, and opened them a moment later: “About one-third.”
“One-third is far from enough.
You are only a Genin.
To condense a Shadow Clone, you must separate at least half of your Chakra.
If the amount is too small, the form won’t solidify, but you can’t use too much either, or it will drain you completely.” Old Tanaka crossed his arms and urged him in a deep voice, “You must find the precise balance point—one that can condense into a physical form without leaving you exhausted.”
Sato Fan nodded and tried again.
This time, he separated nearly half of his Chakra, skillfully performing the hand signs, raising his energy, and releasing it.
“Bang.”
The white smoke dissipated.
The shadow in front of him was slightly clearer than before—at least a human shape could be distinguished.
But it only lasted for two seconds before it deflated instantly like a popped bubble and disappeared without a trace.
Sato Fan raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
Two attempts at the Shadow Clone had consumed most of his Chakra.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, his arms ached slightly, and his breathing became rapid.
The consumption of the Shadow Clone was far greater than he had anticipated—not just the loss of Chakra, but the overdraft of energy.
It felt like he had been running wildly for a long time, and he felt completely hollowed out.
“Let’s stop here for today.” Seeing that he was in poor condition, Old Tanaka called a halt.
“The Shadow Clone cannot be mastered in a day.
Go back and practice the hand signs until you are proficient.
Don’t worry about releasing the clone for now; practice the hand shapes alone.
Do it hundreds of times every day until your fingers can automatically complete the six signs without you needing to think about it.”
“How long will it take to form?” Sato Fan asked.
“It varies from person to person.” Old Tanaka turned and walked toward the warehouse, saying as he walked, “Fastest is one month, slowest is three to five months.
Your foundation in Chakra control is solid, so maybe you can be faster, but don’t expect success overnight.
This is not as simple as the Three Basic Jutsu from the Ninja Academy.”
Sato Fan followed behind him, repeatedly recalling the details of the two failures in his mind.
The first time, the Chakra flow lagged; the second time, the distribution was unbalanced.
The cultivation of the Shadow Clone was far more demanding of patience and precise control than he had imagined.
In the days that followed, Sato Fan’s life became extremely regular.
He arrived at the warehouse at 8:00 AM sharp every day to follow Old Tanaka in counting supplies, processing inventory, and filling out reports.
During lunch breaks, he never rushed to eat; he would run to the open space behind the warehouse to practice the Shadow Clone.
After work, he didn’t rush home either, staying for another hour to practice the Three Basic Jutsu and Taijutsu, never daring to slack off.
He carried a notebook with “Material Ledger” written on the cover to avoid suspicion.
When opened, the first few pages were a list of warehouse supplies, but the rest was densely packed with his insights on practicing the Shadow Clone.
Every failure and every realization was recorded clearly.
Old Tanaka would occasionally glance over during lunch breaks but never offered to guide him proactively.
Only when Sato Fan took the initiative to ask would he answer a few words, then turn and leave without staying long.
“Senior Tanaka, the clone always wobbles when walking.
Why is that?”
“The Chakra failed to distribute evenly throughout the body; you only cared for the limbs, but the torso was empty.”
“Senior Tanaka, the voice of the clone is different from mine.
How should I adjust it?”
“The vocal cords didn’t solidify.
When separating the Chakra, your attention was entirely on your limbs, ignoring the meridians in your throat.”
Every answer pointed to the same core—his Chakra control was not yet precise enough.
This path of cultivation was much harder than he had expected.
One month later, Sato Fan stood in the center of the open space again, his hands suddenly raised.
Zi, Chou, Yin, Mao, Chen, Si—the six signs were completed in one second, his fingers moving so fast they became a blur.
Chakra was precisely drawn from his Dantian, flowed along his arms to his fingertips, and was steadily divided into two strands: one remained in his body, and the other was released.
“Bang.”
The white smoke dissipated, and a complete Shadow Clone stood steadily before him.
It was not a translucent phantom or a blurry outline, but a physical body identical to him—the same height, the same hairstyle, the forehead protector tied on his left arm, and even the creases in his clothes were exactly the same.
The Shadow Clone turned its head, looked at the original body, and asked, “Did it work?” The tone of voice was exactly the same as Sato Fan’s.
Sato Fan looked at the clone in front of him, the corners of his mouth rising slightly, unable to hide the joy in his heart.
He tried to let the clone take a few steps forward, and the clone acted accordingly, moving in coordination, completely indistinguishable from the original body.
At some point, Old Tanaka had arrived at the edge of the open space, watching the formed Shadow Clone, and nodded slightly: “One month and three days, faster than I expected.”
“Thank you for your guidance, Senior Tanaka.” Sato Fan quickly bowed in thanks.
“Don’t thank me; it is entirely the result of your own hard work.” Old Tanaka turned back and walked away, casually instructing, “Next, you need to practice endurance.
How long can your current clone last?” This story is hosted at g.com.
Sato Fan sensed the consumption of Chakra in his body and replied: “About twenty minutes.”
“Too short.
You must practice until it lasts at least forty minutes.
Also, you are not allowed to use it in the warehouse.
If you run out of Chakra and faint, I will have to send you home.” Old Tanaka’s voice floated from afar, gradually dissipating in the wind.
Sato Fan acknowledged and continued to practice diligently.
He began trying to use the Shadow Clone to share the workload, letting the clone count the shelves at the bottom while he was responsible for the high ones; letting the clone move light boxes while he carried heavy objects.
At first, the cooperation was awkward, and the two often bumped into each other, but as they became more skilled, the division of labor became clearer, and the work efficiency was several times higher than when he was alone.
However, the duration of the Shadow Clone remained a shortcoming.
At most, it would dissipate with a bang after twenty-five minutes.
The moment it dissipated, the clone’s fatigue and all its memories would be transmitted back to the original body.
He would suddenly feel his arms ache and his legs go weak, and his mind would have an extra segment of experience from the clone, as clear as if he had experienced it himself.
He remembered the scene of the clone crouching in front of the shelf counting Kunai, the pain in his fingers when the clone was knocked by the corner of a box while moving, and the boredom of the clone waiting for instructions in the open space.
Those memories were not personally experienced by the original body, but they were vividly etched in his mind, strange and real.
Another half month passed, and the duration of the Shadow Clone was finally extended to forty minutes.
Sato Fan began to explore new uses.
During the lunch break, he let the clone go to eat while he stayed in the open space to practice Taijutsu.
After the clone returned and dispelled the technique, he not only gained the memory of eating but also felt the sensation of being full.
This trick was useful but could not be used frequently.
The fatigue of the clone would accumulate entirely on the original body.
If the clone was tired for a whole day, the original body would be exhausted after dispelling the technique.
He had tried letting the clone move boxes for two consecutive hours; the moment the clone dissipated, his waist and abdomen ached so much he couldn’t stand straight, and it took a long time to recover.
Slowly, he found a rhythm that suited him: use the Shadow Clone to handle repetitive, low-intensity physical work, while the original body focused on checking ledgers, filling out reports, and practicing Taijutsu.
The fatigue was shared separately, but knowledge and experience could be shared—getting twice the result with half the effort.
At 5:00 PM, Sato Fan locked the warehouse door and put the key in his pocket.
Old Tanaka had long since left, and only his footprints remained in the open space, quiet enough that only the sound of the wind blowing through the vines remained.
He walked home slowly along the same path, still pondering the training techniques of the Shadow Clone in his mind.
Learning it in one month and three days was smoother than expected, but he knew this was not because of his innate talent; it was entirely due to his solid foundation of six years of Chakra control.
Those once boring basic trainings had finally come in handy at this moment.
As for the follow-up usage of the Shadow Clone, he had not fully planned it, but at this moment, he already had an extra trump card—a confidence to do more and improve himself within a limited time.
Returning home, Sato Umeko was busy in the kitchen, and Sato Michi was sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper.
“You’re back?” Sato Michi put down the newspaper and asked, looking up, “Did everything go smoothly at the warehouse today?”
“It went well enough.” Sato Fan changed his shoes and replied casually, “I also learned a new Ninjutsu.”
Sato Michi was stunned for a moment, then smiled and praised: “Not bad, my son has indeed made progress.”
Sato Umeko poked her head out of the kitchen, asking with curiosity: “What Ninjutsu did you learn?”
“Shadow Clone.” Sato Fan replied.
“Shadow Clone?
What is that?” Sato Umeko looked blank, obviously not very knowledgeable about Ninjutsu.
“It’s just being able to transform into a person exactly like me.” Sato Fan explained simply.
“Isn’t that about the same as the Clone Technique?” Sato Umeko said with a smile.
Sato Fan thought for a moment, did not elaborate on the difference between the two, and replied softly: “Yeah, about the same.”
He washed his hands and sat at the dining table.
The aroma of curry rice drifted from the kitchen, mixed with the heat of the rice, full of warmth.
He ate slowly, his mind still calculating the practice and application of the Shadow Clone.
He didn’t know how far he could eventually practice it, but at least at this moment, he was one point stronger than he was a month ago, and he had one more point of confidence to survive.