Naruto: Mixed Heritage(Rewrite)

The training ground was a chaotic canvas of dust and energy, bathed in the fading light of a blood-orange sunset. In the centre of the training ground, Renjiro squared off against Might Duy.

Renjiro's eyes, dark and stormy, burned with an edgy determination. Every fibre of his being radiated tension, as though he had nothing left to lose. His body was a map of scars and hard-earned muscle, and he was clearly ready to test his limits.

His second Mangekyo ability was too elusive than he would have liked and with all that was happening, Renjiro found it hard to focus on that specific task that he decided to change his focus to taijutsu which he managed to improve that he could now open the fifth gate without much strain.

"Boom!"

Renjiro's fist crashed into the training ground's earth, cratering the soil as Duy's sandaled foot grazed his temple. Air screamed past Renjiro's ear, parting his hair like a blade. He pivoted, Sharingan flaring, but Duy was already gone—a green streak arcing skyward, laughter trailing like comet dust. 

"Crack!"

Duy's heel descended in an axe kick, the force shearing a boulder in half. Renjiro rolled, gravel biting into his palms, and lunged. His muscles burned, veins bulging beneath his skin flushed crimson from the Fifth Gate's wrath. Steam hissed from his pores, distorting the air like a desert mirage. Across the field, Duy's own body glowed a deeper scarlet, Fourth Gates roaring—Opening, Healing, Life, Pain—each chakra node a star in the constellation of his taijutsu mastery. 

"Youthful counterattack!" Duy crowed, ducking beneath Renjiro's elbow strike. His palm snapped upward, a cobra's strike, but Renjiro twisted mid-air, kunai flashing into his grip. 

"Shink!"

The blade sliced empty space as Duy backflipped, landing in a crouch that cratered the earth. Renjiro's Sharingan tracked the minute flex of Duy's calves—'Now!'—and he hurled three kunai, chakra strings unspooling from his fingertips. The weapons hummed, curving mid-flight like hawks diving for prey. 

"Oho! Improvisation!" Duy grinned, teeth gleaming white against his ruddy complexion. He cartwheeled sideways, the kunai grazing his flak jacket, then yanked the strings with a flick of his wrist.

"Twang!" The wires snapped but Duy was already airborne, the kunai embedding into the ground where he'd stood. Renjiro snarled.

'Too slow. Always too slow.' Even with the Fifth Gate's torrential chakra, Duy's movements were poetry. Each dodge a brushstroke, each counter a sonnet. 

"Thud-thud-thud!"

Fists collided in a staccato rhythm, their impacts sending shockwaves rippling through the clearing. Bark splintered from nearby trees; a training post exploded into sawdust.

Renjiro's vision swam—red from the Gates, redder from frustration. Duy's taijutsu was a storm, unpredictable yet precise. A front kick aimed at Renjiro's ribs morphed mid-flight into a spinning heel strike. 

"Crunch."

Renjiro's forearm blocked the blow, bones vibrating. He retaliated with a jab, but Duy flowed around it like water, fingers darting to tap Renjiro's sternum. 

"Konoha Senpū!"

The whirlwind kick sent Renjiro skidding backwards, heels carving trenches in the dirt. Blood flecked his lips. Across the field, Duy adjusted his forehead protector, sweat glistening on his brow. 

"Ease up, Renjiro-kun!" Duy called, though his grin never wavered. "The Gates are a fiery lover—burn too hot, and she'll leave you hollow!" 

'Hollow.'

The word needled Renjiro's pride. His Sharingan spun wildly, struggling to parse Duy's movements.

'Daichi's eyes were worse,' he thought bitterly. At least here, the enemy was flesh. 

He charged again, chakra erupting in a geyser. The Fifth Gate—Close—screamed in his veins, raw power overriding finesse. A haymaker aimed for Duy's jaw; the man ducked, but Renjiro's knee was already rising. 

"Crack!"

Duy's palm met the kneecap, redirecting the force skyward. The follow-up punch—a textbook Uchiha straight—Duy sidestepped, fingers brushing Renjiro's wrist. 

"Nope!"

A judo throw sent Renjiro airborne. He twisted, landing cat-like, but Duy was already upon him—elbow aimed for his solar plexus. 

"Thwack!"

Renjiro folded, air bursting from his lungs. He hit the ground rolling, spitting dirt. 'Pathetic. Even with more Gates, I'm—' 

"Dynamic Entry!"

Duy's foot descended like a guillotine. Renjiro rolled, the kick cratering the earth where his skull had been. He scrambled upright, Sharingan darting—'Predict, damn you!'—but Duy's feint was flawless. A jab at Renjiro's eyes masked a sweeping low kick. 

"Crunch.!"

Renjiro's ankle buckled. He hissed, hopping back, chakra flaring to numb the pain. Duy paused, brow furrowed. 

"Your form's slipping," he said, uncharacteristically serious. "The Gates amplify recklessness. Control the tide, or—" 

"Shut up!" Renjiro spat. The Fifth Gate pulsed, agony and power entwined. He lunged, a whirlwind of strikes—hook, uppercut, spinning backfist—each blow tearing the air. Duy weaved through them, a leaf on the wind, until— 

"Slap!"

—his palm caught Renjiro's fist. 

For a heartbeat, they stood locked, steam rising from their bodies like rival auras. Duy's eyes softened. "You're forcing it. The Gates are a dance, not a battering ram." 

Renjiro's Sharingan blazed. "I don't need your lectures!" 

He yanked free, leaping backwards. Chakra strings lashed out, snagging scattered kunai. They hummed to life, orbiting him like metallic satellites before streaking toward Duy in a lethal constellation. 

"Shink-shink-shink!"

Duy's laugh rang out—bright, almost musical—as he pirouetted through the storm. A kunai nicked his cheek; another tore his sleeve. But his grin never dimmed. "Now that's youth!" 

Renjiro's breath came in ragged gasps. The Fifth Gate's steam was thinning, his muscles fraying. Across the clearing, Duy's Fourth Gate glow remained steady, his breaths measured.

'A year,' Renjiro thought bitterly. 'A year of grinding, and he's still…' 

Memories flickered—Daichi's hooked Mangekyo, the suffocating loss of control. Just like now: outmatched, outclassed. Weakness curdled in Renjiro's gut, fermenting into rage. 

'Enough!'

Renjiro's chakra detonated. The ground fractured beneath him as he shot forward, a scarlet comet.

Duy's eyes widened—'finally!'—as he crossed his arms to block. 

"Boom!" 

The collision sent a shockwave ripping through the clearing. Trees bent double; a nearby stream erupted in a geyser. Renjiro's fists blurred, a barrage fueled by Gate-fueled fury. Duy blocked each strike, but his boots skidded backwards, carving furrows. 

"Thud-thud-THUD!"

"There!" Duy barked, exhilarated. His counterhook slipped past Renjiro's guard, clipping his chin. Stars exploded in Renjiro's vision, but he retaliated blindly, knee-slamming into Duy's ribs. 

"Crunch." 

Duy grunted, the first sign of strain. He disengaged, leaping onto a shattered tree stump. "Magnificent! But—" He wiped blood from his lip. "—youth without restraint is a wildfire!" 

Renjiro didn't hear. The Gates' roar was a siren song, drowning reason. He charged again, kunai in hand, strings whipping like serpents. Duy met him head-on, their clash a symphony of grunts and impacts. 

"Clang!"

Kunai sparked against Kunai. Duy twisted, disarming Renjiro with a wristlock, but Renjiro headbutted him—'crack'—forehead meeting nose. Duy staggered, and Renjiro pressed the advantage, a spinning heel kick aimed at his temple. 

"Whoosh."

Duy ducked, the kick parting his wild hair. His hand shot up, grabbing Renjiro's ankle. 

"Too predictable!"

He spun, hurling Renjiro into a boulder. Stone shattered. Renjiro lay amidst the rubble, gasping, blood trickling from his scalp. Above, the sky wheeled—indifferent, endless. 

Duy approached footsteps crunching gravel. "You've grown stronger," he said, offering a hand. "But strength without control…" 

Renjiro slapped the hand away. He stood, swaying. The Fifth Gate's steam was a dying ember now, his body a tapestry of bruises. Duy's Fourth Gate still burned steady, his stance relaxed but ready. 

'Why?' The question festered. Renjiro had more Gates, and more chakra, yet Duy's skill rendered it meaningless. 'Daichi. Duy. Always someone better.'

"Click."

The sound came from deep within—a lock turning, a door creaking ajar. Renjiro froze. His chakra, twitched. 

"Click-click."

Duy frowned.