The Awakened Soul (Naruto SI)

[Welydora]

Hey there!

I'm Welydora! Right now, I'm writing The Awakened Soul. It's about a reincarnated guy from a world similar to our own. The story is written in a positive, slightly pragmatic tone: the protagonist is smart, and because of that, strong—and he doesn't spend his time wallowing in suffering.

Below, you can read a more detailed description or jump straight into the prologue!

Synopsis:

Death is only a transition. For the soul of a contemporary man, it became reincarnation into the void, where his only reality was a body of pure energy. But one reckless experiment tossed him into the body of an infant in a shinobi world he'd always thought was fiction — a world ruled by Blood and Chakra.

Briefly about what to expect from the book:

1. Atmosphere: Positive Pragmatism!
This is NOT a darkfic. Most of the story is written in a positive tone, often with dark humor. Yes, there is tragedy at the beginning—but it's only a catalyst for the rise of a strong protagonist. This is a story about reaching the top and showing that growth actually has a price, not about endless whining and self-pity.

2. World and Plot
You're in for a deep AU that explores chakra mechanics far beyond canon. Like the "Evolution" tag? You'll find something similar here—after all, this is a world of blood. As the story progresses, the battles become increasingly flashy, cinematic, and high-stakes.

3. Canon
Hmm… yeah, sounds vaguely familiar. Might've seen it in passing.
But with new variables in play, events go a little—or completely—off the rails.

4. Socials & Characters
There's a strong focus on humor and on developing side characters—both their personalities and their strength. The reincarnated protagonist, however, changes the most, going from an ordinary student to something far greater. Don't worry, though: heavy introspection is mostly confined to the beginning. This fanfic definitely isn't just endless navel-gazing.

Warning: There will be polyamory, as well as "incest." The quotation marks are there for a reason.

About the Author:

1. Despises NTR.
2. Open to criticism.
3. Good-looking.
4. Permanently awesome.

Enjoy the read! ヾ(•ω•`)o

Prologue

A place with no concept of a beginning, where an eternal, cold, all‑consuming darkness stretched into infinity. A vast black canvas of existence that seemed to contain nothing at all. But… if you looked closer, tiny embers smoldered upon it, infinitesimally small in comparison to it. Shimmering with different colors, they were endless. Yet they all shared one thing.

They were all slowly burning away, dragging out their meaningless existence as they waited for their doom. Such is the law of the universe—to blaze anew, you first have to go out.

Everyone would go through this… Or were there exceptions?

A tiny soul drifted in the bottomless ocean of what would later be called oblivion. Inside an almost transparent sphere, a gray, slightly murky core glowed. This small planet wandered the expanse, rhythmically emitting a barely visible haze that quickly dissipated into the darkness.

But then, the glow went out.

Was this it?

The walls of the sphere rippled, and the core began to flicker.

An instant later, the little planet was engulfed in a blinding white flame, many times brighter than its former smoldering. Faint hints of gray flashed within it, but in the gloom you couldn't make out the rare black sparks bursting outward. Another instant, and the colors inverted. Now a barely discernible black fire birthed a myriad of almost white specks that exploded in bright flashes. Another moment, so brief you wouldn't have time to blink, and the fire froze, as if time itself had stopped.

A flash—and the swollen blaze was swept away by a wave of gray energy, scattering into countless sparkles. The darkness swallowed everything, except for it...

Once again, the small planet drifted in the ocean of oblivion. But now, right before your eyes, something was happening to it. Something light gray began to ooze around it, as if from nowhere, like a thick, viscous liquid. The color was somewhere between that of the almost transparent sphere and its murky gray core. And finally, after enclosing the orb, it suddenly started to swell into a shape. At first it was just an ellipsoid‑like blob, but it quickly gained detail until a human figure hung suspended in the endless murk.

It twitched once, a shudder running through its entire body. Trembling hands reached up to the face of the hunched‑over figure, and barely visible pulses of energy began to burst out of it.


"So... cold..."

My thoughts were all over the place, my body felt like it had a mind of its own, pulling me in different directions. A chill pierced me to the bone. My fingers were icy against my face. Everything cramped up in a spasm, and I pulled my limbs away, opening my eyes. There was darkness all around… in which I could see my own glowing, semi‑transparent hands…

"What the hell?"

A reflexive attempt to draw a breath was cut short.

I couldn't. No air was coming in.

Panic washed over me.

Goosebumps ran up my spine, and a tugging warmth spread through my chest...

My gaze dropped back to my own limbs. What I saw made me freeze, forgetting all about trying to breathe.

The question stayed the same.

The numbness almost receded, quietly replaced by calm. Had it always been this easy before? Ah, yeah. Almost.

I looked around, but saw nothing except my own body. My gaze slid down to my chest, and I froze, staring for about a minute at the glowing little "planet" inside me.

A thought flickered somewhere in the back of my mind: apparently, I wasn't going to need to breathe anymore. The transparency of my body only backed that up.

I needed to remember what had happened... My head was a mess. Trying to focus, I started to recall the most recent events, like watching an old film reel in reverse. A heaviness grew in my chest...

It all started that evening. Those memories were the clearest. It was raining, dark clouds over the city pressing down on everything. I just felt like buying something sweet—my weakness...

Leaving the building entrance, I headed for the nearest store out of habit. I walked without hurrying, knowing I'd get soaked anyway.

Why didn't I take an umbrella? I shouldn't have been in a rush… and that didn't just apply to me, but to the drivers tearing down the road along the sidewalk. One such speed demon hit a puddle and drenched me from the side, so I ended up wet not just from above. Wonderful...

Soon I was standing at a crosswalk, waiting for the green. The only one I needed to cross.

"At least I didn't forget you," I thought, fishing my earbuds out of my pocket.

Hunching over the case to shield it from the rain, I quickly put the earbuds in and started some music on my phone. The loud track drowned out the gloom.

As soon as it turned green, I stepped forward without looking… and immediately felt a sharp impact from the side that threw me several meters. A flash of pain shot through my entire body, the wail of a car horn punched through my music, and then a new, even stronger wave of pain hit from the same side. The crunch of my own ribs in my chest... then everything blurred and an icy numbness came.

So I got hit by a truck or a minibus... Most likely a minibus, considering the city and the way people here drive.

My hands clenched on their own, but a cold melancholy settled in my head... So, I died. And now I didn't feel anything. That was probably for the best. Looked like I'd already made my peace with it.

Endless darkness... so this was the afterlife. I'd been expecting something more colorful. There'd been so many interpretations of it back in my world.

Whatever. I... what was my name again? My fingers involuntarily touched my abs. Memories of gym workouts floated up. But I couldn't remember my name... The chill spread through my chest again, and I reached for it on reflex. My parents' names, the people close to me—I couldn't even recall their faces... But the feeling that those memories had been important wouldn't leave me.

At least I don't have to take my finals, an ironic thought flashed through my mind.

I didn't even remember my own face, but I knew I'd survived one whole set of finals. How old would that make me? I couldn't remember, so I had to count. Eighteen, huh.

"And what am I supposed to do with that info?" I tapped my chest, as if addressing the spheres. The only answer was a growing numbness.

Was I just tired? That's how I decided to interpret the feeling... Hm. And I kind of wondered what I looked like. I'd probably never find out now... Man, I was really getting pulled under...

The thinking wasn't helping, and without even realizing it, I let go of my thoughts and sank into something like sleep.

About ten hours later

Waking up in a pleasant haze was great. Nothing around me made a sound, my body didn't give off a single negative sensation; on the contrary, it was filled with warmth spreading out from my chest. Yeah... almost worth dying for, just for this... Horrible joke.

Sitting up, I started thinking about what to do next. The answer came up: nothing. That state of affairs didn't exactly thrill me. Then I noticed the warmth spreading through my body again.

"Wasn't I a bit... paler yesterday? And also..." I brought my hand closer to my eyes for a better look. "Did I get a glow or something?"

And sure enough, my entire "skin" was giving off a faint, barely noticeable grayish light. Hm, maybe I was being paranoid, but it really felt like this transparent little planet with the core inside me was behind this weird phenomenon—as well as the temperature thing going on in my chest.

When I was alive, I used to read a lot, and I didn't skip anime either—even though a lot of people think it's, hm, a weird hobby. And this little ball was suspiciously similar to some kind of mana core… just a strange, two‑layered one. Although, considering I'm dead and wasn't a mage in my past life, it's more likely a spiritual energy core, or something like that.

When I looked at it more closely, I added another fact to the pile: there was something else in there. It seemed like something almost transparent was flowing very slowly out of the inner core. Some kind of substance, like thick jelly. And the same stuff was flowing out of the outer core as well.

Should I try meditating or something, to feel the Force? Weird idea. Even if I did die and end up in this equally weird form of existence... yeah, against that backdrop the idea doesn't even sound that strange.

I sat down in the lotus position—I had no idea why—closed my eyes and focused on my chest. A second, two, a minute... No idea how much time actually passed, but subjectively "soon" enough, and to my surprise I really did feel a flow...

It was a strange feeling of something shifting, like suddenly noticing a heartbeat that had always been there. As if it had been with me all along; it felt completely natural.

Not wanting to stop there, I tried to make a sort of channel leading from the top of the outer sphere. And after a few moments that felt longer than before, I managed to catch that inner effort, that thought‑property, that made the energy condense and stretch out of the sphere in a thin cord, before dissolving back inside my body.

For a good ten minutes I honestly just played around with it, pulling out… this stuff into cords of different lengths and densities.

Watching and doing all that from the sphere's point of view was really interesting. I could see in a full three‑hundred‑and‑sixty‑degree circle. Me‑as‑the‑sphere inside my chest, once I more or less got the hang of it, could, by sort of jerking myself up and down, jump over the cord I'd made like it was a jump rope. Of course, that was only after I smacked myself with it a few dozen times.

Even then, probably only thanks to the sense of rhythm I'd built up in life, I managed to do a series of ten "jumps" over this... whatever it was. I had no idea what to even call the stuff inside me... Soul energy? I could be totally wrong about its nature, but whatever. After another minute, mentally huffing and puffing, I was already doing a set of fifteen jumps when something in my mind started itching...

Maybe I was missing something?…

!

Right, I should be seeing through my eyes! What the hell is wrong with my memory that I'm being this dense...

With that thought, my point of view almost literally drifted and stopped at head level. What had been a spherical, all‑around... sphere‑o‑vision turned into the usual view of human eyes.

And then, just by wanting to, my view shifted back to how it had been a moment ago.

"Amazing," flashed through… the sphere, as I switched between those two points of view a few more times and, in the end, was able to literally look through my finger.

I examined myself from the outside. Inside my semi‑transparent shell—in my head, and even down in my groin—there were no brains to be found. Apparently I was thinking with the little planet in my chest. It was the only thing in the body that really stood out.

Interesting picture. As I realized after a few dozen experiments, I was most likely perceiving reality through energy now. I simply didn't have any other organs. I could even "see" with the energy that leaked from the contours of my body.

By the way, the glowing outline that passed where my skin should've been was slightly thickened... like skin. You wouldn't notice it at first because of the glow.

Back to vision: I could sort of see out to about a couple of meters away from my body. In all directions at once, which was important. And it didn't really overload my "brain"—quotation marks now.

Well, I was discovering a new side of myself, heh. Literally.

My body looked familiar to me, so it didn't really trigger any emotions. A lean guy, far from a bodybuilder, but clearly someone who knew a thing or two about working out. Standard haircut with medium‑length hair and, as had been trendy for a while, shaved sides.

A "young man"... wasn't I a bit too young to be using that word? Ah, whatever.

What should I do next?

A cord of energy drifted over me‑the‑sphere.

Well, after getting something that was basically magic, what else was I supposed to do besides mess with it? Although… I could probably hurt myself if I did something wrong with this substance... On the other hand, I'm dead, there's nothing around, and even if I cause myself pain—well, what can you do. At least existing won't be so boring... how fatalistic.

But back to a more positive wave. Energy... let's try pushing it outside—beyond the "skin."

A stream about a centimeter thick rushed out of the core and passed beyond the limits of my body without any obstacles. No issues there.

A few minutes later I was already trying to control two "snakes" of energy. They could easily be merged into one, and I tried braiding them together.

After another ten minutes of this fun little activity, my brain steaming like crazy, I was already trying to make a weave of ten threads—one from each finger.

Another notable thing: I didn't have to pull the energy straight out of the outer sphere—which, as I was vaguely starting to feel, was the main reservoir. In much smaller amounts, the same substance was in my body, and I could draw it not just from the "skin," but even from the "glow."

The experiments with shape manipulation dragged on for another couple dozen minutes, ending with me checking how far I could stretch a thread of energy—a tendril, basically. Turned out to be about two meters. Weird sensation, like how an arm can't physically reach further, and in the same way I couldn't push the energy any farther.

After that I moved on to trying to change the properties of my energy. Up to now I'd just been changing its shape, which is also a "property," kind of. But you can take that concept a lot further.

Right away, a small flame popped up over my finger, like from a lighter. It was gray for some reason... ah, there we go, at my command it turned into a normal color.

"Hmm... looks like I've got the makings of a masochist," I muttered, holding my other hand over the flame. "Nothing... Oh, right, I need to assign the thought‑property that the fire should be hot... Hotter... hotter... Oh fuck, not that hot!"

So I could hurt myself after all. When I was "jump‑roping" as the sphere and smacking "myself" with the energy cord, I hadn't felt any damage. I'd clearly felt that I was touching myself, sure, but there were no real injuries.

I looked at my hand, now nicely filled in with gray... Well, at least I checked whether my "body" has regeneration. I hope it does.

Now I could move on to the sphere and its core... Over time, I was feeling their work more and more clearly: how the outer sphere bled excess energy out of the body, and how the inner core radiated energy into the outer sphere as if from nowhere.

Then a not‑very‑smart idea came to me, but its quality didn't stop me from trying it. As always, obeying my will, the outer sphere stopped radiating energy and started slowly overfilling.

After a minute I felt uncomfortable. After three—more uncomfortable, and a problem cropped up: I could barely hold the sphere back. It wasn't showing any signs it was about to burst on its own. In fact, that lack of an "I'm gonna pop" feeling was what kept me going, because my senses were telling me I could still keep holding it.

Even with my newly discovered self‑torture tendencies, I still didn't want to hurt myself that deliberately. If I'd felt like I was about to burst, I'd have let go.

With a low hum, the energy tore free of my control and gushed out of me in a powerful stream of light.

Ugh... tired again. I don't know what exactly in me gets tired, but this time the feeling came not only from the mental work, like before, but also from working with the energy itself. The energy, by the way, was still there in full. So apparently it was the manipulation that wore me out.

With that, I decided to push the next experiments off until "tomorrow."

Just like last time, I cleared my mind without effort and again fell into something like sleep.

Some time later

Alright, what else is there to do?

Guess I'll keep working on containing the energy.

With a light effort, the inner core kind of switched off, stopping its radiation. That took less effort than holding back the outer sphere. However... yeah, if I stopped focusing on it, the core would just "switch on" by itself again and start pumping out its "jelly." Hm...

What if...

I focused on my "glow" and immediately tried to snuff it out, as if corking the energy up inside.

Starting from the "skin" on my fingers, the glow began to fade. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter, the process of "fading" got harder and harder. My mind was practically boiling by the time my hands had "gone dark" up to the elbows...

Failure.

After rethinking what had happened a bit, I felt a slight dissatisfaction with the experiment. Sure, I'd never gotten everything right on the first try anyway. But this was just a mess: I'd failed to pull something off—that just didn't sit right.

As the experiments with form had clearly shown, my skills grew with time. And now I had... a lot of time. Hm... First I'll try making different‑colored glows. I wanna learn how to puke rainbows...

A week later

"Come on... you... I mean, I can do this!" I stared at the fading toes on my feet. At first the progress had been fast. After about an hour of work, I'd managed to "extinguish" my hands. But the farther I went, the more the progress slowed down, even if not too sharply. By my feel for it, I'd already spent something like ten hours actually working on it. Plus an unknown amount of time in between, spent "sleeping." That's how long it had taken to reach where I was now.

Though I hadn't been grinding only this one trick. I'd also been progressing in other areas of energy manipulation. I'd pushed my overall control to the point where I could stretch energy—and therefore "see" with it—up to five meters away. And, by the way, my "body" did have regeneration: the burn‑like injury had healed up over several sleep cycles.

But right now the important part was that I'd done what I set out to do. Straining hard to keep my "skin" from leaking energy, I could only squeeze out a pained smile.

Finally managed to snuff out all the glow from my skin. Now all I'm missing is a bell chime and a "Quest Complete" pop‑up over my head, I thought, my smile becoming a little less strained.

And... what's this...?

Suddenly I started to feel something vague, like my "skin" was getting "thicker"... or rather, denser, soaking up energy to do it. Was it because of the pressure I was putting on it right now?

For a few more seconds I held the energy inside, watching that slow process. But since it was taking real effort, I was just about to let go of my control when I suddenly felt a jolt from below.

A few seconds later, I was being pulled somewhere. My control slipped, and the pent‑up energy gushed out of me in a torrent. But I could still feel that my acceleration wasn't dropping; something inside told me I was moving through space. After another, fairly short stretch of time, I felt the "atmosphere" get thicker, like I'd gone from air into water. I wasn't sure this space—which, as it turned out, wasn't empty at all—had any kind of actual atmosphere, but that's exactly how it felt.

The denser "atmosphere" turned out to be energy, different from the stuff I'd been manipulating. It started slowly soaking into me, and I instinctively felt that this substance was very good for me.

For the first time in a long while, I felt hunger—and I knew clearly that this stuff outside could satisfy it.

With a push of will, my "skin" opened up instead, and the flow of absorbed energy shot up many times over.

Pushing even harder, I started yanking that energy into myself as much as I could.

I didn't really have the strength to look closely, but as it washed over my soul, that energy almost immediately made the outer shell completely transparent, while the core barely changed—its gray color just turned... grayer.

Strangely enough, even at peak strain, I didn't get tired for a long time. My control was actually growing stronger.

After a while of letting the energy pour through me, I felt... younger? And, like I just mentioned, stronger. However... my stamina still couldn't keep up with the power of my efforts. I hadn't totally lost my mind, and I noticed that as I went, so I eased off the pace. All so I could stay conscious longer and absorb more energy.

But as I kept pulling more and more into myself, fatigue still crept over me in a slow wave. And after a while, I couldn't fight it off and slipped into unconsciousness...

 

[Welydora]

I woke up in complete darkness, same as before. Only this time my "spherical vision" was almost completely cut off, and everything around me was suspiciously warm and damp.

But most noticeable of all, I was currently wrapped up inside a holy-shit level of powerful energy.

Did some creepy thing eat me? was the first thought that flashed through my mind, but I pretty much dismissed it right away.

I could clearly see my body had changed. It was smaller—shaped like a fetus, about five months along… To be honest, I'm no expert, but the transformation itself seemed pretty damn interesting. Even more interesting than another change I haven't mentioned yet: my, let's say, power had grown a lot.

I could feel the increase in my power almost in percentages: after ending up in that place, my soul had become more than 3.5 times stronger. But it was a weird metric—it somehow factored in not only the amount of energy, but also its density in some way I couldn't explain. If I multiplied both sensations together, it came out like the energy in my core had grown by about 6.5 times. Some weird bullshit.

Bullshit or not, going back to the main problem: apparently I was encased in energy that utterly dwarfed my own.

To feel it better, I tried to stick a cord of my own energy out past the edge of my body, to "look around" and "poke" things in a different way. But the moment it touched the outer energy, I jerked back from a scorching sense of hostility. Like I'd plunged my hands into weak acid, only with a very clear feeling that something was trying to erase me… not super hard, but the intent was there.

Still, I got some picture of things.

The thing containing me was soaked in this energy, but dozens of times more of it was flowing through what looked like its veins. A circulatory system? I couldn't even touch those properly—my soul energy got blown away almost instantly, not leaving me a chance. But one brush against a "vein" was enough for me to grasp the shape of that system, and I stopped thinking it looked like a blood vessel network at all—because it didn't. It also let me better gauge the power level of the creature I was currently inside… and if I'd had, say, three times less energy, then just in raw volume it would surpass me by four orders of magnitude. Ten. Thousand. Times.

That bit of information knocked me out of it for a few seconds. What kind of monster was I inside?.. Though, judging by my current situation, "imprisoned" wasn't exactly the right word.

Focusing, I carefully checked my own body again, this time a lot more consciously.

No, I mean, I did look human, right?

My eye snagged on something, but I shelved it for the moment. I was almost sure the body was human—just at some stage of development… and inside a womb. From that, I could conclude the creature I was inside of was technically my mother now. And I'd somehow ended up in a new body.

As for how it happened—in that part the logic chain got fuzzy: I'd been sucked into some space filled with energy I absorbed, and the cause of that was… my experiment to turn off the "backlight"? I can totally believe I missed something, and the cause-and-effect chain is anything but solid. But without more info I just have to work with what I've got.

So now I had at least some idea how I'd gotten here. And before moving on to "what now?", I went back to the thing that had caught my attention. When I focused on the energy system… of my mother, something at the edge of my awareness poked me—like I had something similar inside myself. To my surprise, by zeroing in on that thought and kind of projecting it into my soul energy, I started seeing a similar system in my own body more and more clearly.

Same as last time, as I changed my approach—using sensations to interact with the unknown—my mind started creaking. "Shifting" it into something I didn't understand to grope around for something I also didn't understand was, yeah, not exactly easy.

After a while, entirely new sensations from this new energy system began seeping into my mind. A slow, steady flow.

This new energy was oversaturated with a whole ocean of feelings I'd never had in my soul energy. If my power was like pure water, then this was like an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of flavors and emotions, made of two currents: one warm, alive, the other colder, more spiritual.

I tried touching the new energy with my soul energy—but I just couldn't. My soul tendril passing through the new energy felt like brushing some barely-there fog. There was something there, but I had no idea if those sensations were even real or just my brain bullshitting me with phantom input.

Weird… My mother's energy, by comparison, had been harshly blocking and shredding my soul energy. I couldn't figure out why, other than, "well, this energy belongs to my body, so it doesn't mess with my soul." I just put that question aside for later. Maybe for never, heh.

This new energy system had a pretty funny shape, though. This little flame… Wait. Hold up.

I stared harder.

Froze.

Burned myself on my mother's system again while examining it.

Realized—and holy shit.

The chakra circulatory system from the anime Naruto. No fucking way.

Look how far I've fallen… I actually ended up as some isekai insert into the anime I used to be into in my past life. If I'd known, I would've prepped way better. What do I have in my memory? Right… the anime itself, though I watched it ages ago and probably forgot half of it, and a shit-ton of fanfics… What the hell was I doing with my past life?

Anyway, now I had to recall everything I knew about this world. Any info could be valuable… I must've really gone off the deep end if I'm treating this whole "transmigrated"—yeah, "transmigrated," since I haven't actually "reincarnated" yet—thing as something more or less normal.

Eh… Fine. If that's reality now, I've got to adapt. What do I remember about Naruto? Actually, a lot. Chakra in this world either appeared, or got concentrated, because of some failed attempt by two aliens to suck all life off the planet. They had some kind of falling out, and everything went to shit. That's if you believe the Naruto sequel anime—Boruto… which I really should've watched way more attentively. I don't remember anything besides the fact there were two aliens—a man and a woman. The second betrayed the first, took everything for herself, while the first had to run and hide for like a thousand years.

Ōtsutsuki Kaguya, one of the strongest beings in the world. The Rabbit Goddess, and probably a whole list of other terrifying titles I don't know. What matters is she's insanely strong… And a vague thought kept poking at me: comparing the power I felt from outside, it wasn't crazy to think she might actually be the mother of this physical body.

I reevaluated again.

No… Or rather, I wasn't sure. Yeah, a power almost four orders of magnitude higher than mine is insane. But it's not like I'm putting out mind-blowing numbers myself right now. I mean… for example, I'd managed to learn how to burp rainbows. I'm awesome, sure—but nowhere near omnipotent. Even if you multiplied my power by those three-thousand-something times, I kinda doubted it'd be enough for an Ōtsutsuki… Damn, if only the anime had detailed power stats for the characters. In numbers. That would be useful for me… But no, anime usually doesn't like "nerding out" with exact data. Although, if I remember right, I actually liked numbers. LitRPG was a pretty good genre, I was into it. Probably… If I live, I'll need to start systematizing the stuff I'm working with.

For now, I'm in a womb. Pretty much sure of that. I've got a fetal body that clearly shouldn't be able to think like this, but I can think just fine. And also…

I tried to wiggle the fingers on my hand, but only managed an awkward twitch with the whole arm. Yeah, I could feel my body. And judging by how it looked, I was going to be stuck here in the dark and this actually pretty pleasant warm dampness for a few more months.

So I'll spend that time replaying my memories about this world—Naruto and Boruto—and messing around with my soul energy inside my body. It's not getting out anyway—I'm basically sealed in.

What else is there to do? Guess I'll try moving my chakra. It's already flowing on its own, but maybe I can speed it up?

That's what I did for the time that followed. As it turned out pretty quickly, my new brain did work somehow, though it was probably only handling part of the thinking load. Because after maybe twenty minutes of entertaining myself, I felt tired. A different kind of tired, most likely physical, and I drifted off to sleep.

Sleeping in the womb turned out even nicer than… There. Nothing hurt, there was a pleasant feeling in my chest, and waking up wrapped in that softness was insanely good. Such a cozy, skin-tingling sensation—those first few times I didn't even want to wake up right away, just basked in the bliss over and over. But I couldn't stay like that forever, so I mixed it up with various energy exercises.

That's how the new cycles of a very pleasant existence began…

Over the months, I got used not only to my new state, but also to the one who was my whole world. I didn't know her name, hadn't seen her face, but I felt her. I felt joy in the slight stir of energy around me, fatigue in the steady slowing of her heartbeat, the muffled laughter coming from outside. It all became so familiar, so dear and calming.

Until it was time to be born.


AAHHHHHH!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?! I screamed in my head as my mother's insides painfully clenched around me, trying to push me out.

"OH GOD, IT HURTS S-O-O-O-O-O-O-O MUCH!" A muffled female voice with incomprehensible moans reached me. The voice that had become so familiar and warm over the past months was now filled with searing agony.

Then my head was hit by an unpleasant cold, and the air stabbed through my hair like needles.

And life had been so good until now. Comfortable, nothing extra I had to do…

The outside world decided not to wait for me to make my own way out. I realized that when I felt something put on the crown of my head and then, somehow grabbing onto it, start to pull.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" my mother screamed.

Yeah, I'm freaking out too!

It felt like they weren't being very gentle with me, prioritizing speed over care.

A couple seconds later I reflexively opened my mouth and inhaled, and my lungs were hit with the unpleasant cold of air. Sounds got way louder, another scream from my mother rang in my ears like a damn alarm. Light—something I hadn't seen in so long—slammed into my eyes like burning knives, making me squeeze them shut even tighter.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

With that last scream, still pounding in my ears like a death knell, I was pulled out completely. Breathing was hard, my whole body was shaking from the strain…

Mom, you still alive in there? I asked mentally, kind of worried. Not that anyone could hear me. Everything felt like a blur; people were fussing around me, but I couldn't really sense anything properly.

Very soon, after a feeling of warm moisture, they apparently washed me. At the same time, everything around me started getting clearer. Sounds became distinguishable, though not any more understandable. My mind was mush; I couldn't process my surroundings properly.

"He's not crying?" They lifted me again onto… hands?… that slowly started forming a black-and-white picture in my mind.

I can see with my soul again? What's with the lack of color?

"He's breathing. It's all right, Kushina-chan."

My soul vision slowly expanded, letting me see more of the woman holding me: looked about sixty, loose robe, steady grip.

Another half second and I saw, very close—maybe a meter away—a girl of about twenty. She was also in a robe, something like a medical gown, and a cap. I still couldn't see color properly, but at least I could make out shapes inside the expanding sphere of vision.

No fucking way I'm being born again. Life was so much better last time when I didn't remember these sensations, flashed through my head.

After a bit more time, they moved me to a young woman lying on a table-bed, looking horribly exhausted. I couldn't tell the color, but she had long, straight hair.

"N-Naruto… Haaaah… I finally get to see you." They brought me up to her face. The ringing in my ears was slowly fading, and I started catching individual words. But that didn't help me much—I couldn't understand the language…

Sorry, but it was way nicer inside you. Ugh… screw this.

"Look, I'm a father! Ha-ha!" A guy around twenty, standing next to my mother's bed, was saying something while wiping away tears. He had medium-length spiky hair that fell down in two locks at the sides.

I don't get a word you're saying, but… thanks, I guess.

I reflexively reached for the girl's face. My body was so fragile. But I'd been with this woman for so long. That pleasant feeling in my chest when I looked at her? Was that… love?

"Childbirth has tired you out, I know, Kushina. But we need to completely seal the Kyuubi…" the guy said again, in words I still couldn't understand.

Wait. Just now Mom said "Naruto" while looking at me? And one of the words aimed at her was "Kushina"? And yeah, my body had those lines on the cheeks. Just great… So I'm Uzumaki Naruto now, huh…

"O-okay."

I focused on what the guy was doing. He put his hands on my mother's stomach, which, I now noticed, was covered with strange lines and circles of energy.

While I was lost in thought, the old lady who'd brought me to Mom carried me away again, stepping aside with the younger assistant.

Millimeter by millimeter, my vision kept spreading, soon reaching about three meters out. I don't think I could even control it… it was so hard to fit everything into my mental grip. I could see both women beside me more clearly now, as well as my mother and, as I now had to assume, my father. Minato—I remembered his name—kept doing something with the seal, making it fold in and get sucked inside.

My thoughts were cut off by a wave of unpleasant feeling.

I remembered that Naruto's birthday in the anime turned into a tragedy—both his parents died. But my mind was like frozen jelly, refusing to flow the right way and give me the mental images of why exactly it happened.

Instead, a dull ache started growing in my chest from a simple fact: the woman whose heartbeat had been my world these past months would soon die.

Floating away from the world, I suddenly felt like something metaphorical grabbed me and yanked me back into reality.

A picture started burning itself into my numb mind: a huge hand of a cloaked figure hanging over my face. In front of us, in slow motion, the older and younger women were falling. Their throats were slit, and I saw in crazy detail how the blood burst out of them under pressure.

With a heavy thud their bodies hit the floor, splattering it with blood.

"AAAAAAAAHHHH!" my scream, full of horror, echoed through the room. Goosebumps raced over my skin, my heart exploded into a frantic beat, the thudding echoing through my whole body. The nightmarish image of the murdered women wouldn't leave my head; I watched the sticky pool of blood spreading under them, and no matter how I tried, I couldn't "close my eyes" in my own mind.

"M-mph…!" A huge hand grabbed my head, muffling me. My whole being was flooded with anxiety. On reflex, tendrils of soul energy—what I'd been training with all this time—shot out of me, trying to stab into whoever had grabbed me. They just broke apart uselessly on his skin. His own chakra, circulating under it, was an unbreakable wall to my weak power. He didn't even react, like nothing had happened at all.

"Fourth Hokage… Minato. Step away from the jinchuriki," a deep, chilling voice rumbled above me. "Or your son dies."

"Wait! C-calm down," Minato backed away from Kushina, raising his hands in a placating gesture. But at her pained cry he immediately looked back— the beast inside the seal was breaking loose.

"You'd better follow your own advice," the intruder said, taking his hand off my frozen face and, with an imperceptible movement, pulling a kunai out of his sleeve. "I am perfectly calm."

Let me go, you fucking psycho piece of shit! was all I could do—scream mentally. I was on the edge of a full-blown meltdown. And to my surprise, he did let me go… by tossing me up, right into the path of the falling steel blade!

"AAAAAAH!"

"Naruto!" my mother shouted, turning toward me.

Swish

A hard jolt—and suddenly I was in the arms of Minato, who was crouched on the wall(!!).

Kshhhhh—my swaddling was now covered in ominously sizzling paper tags with kanji on them. This time my brain worked properly, instantly recognizing that those tags were about to blow like a grenade.

"AAAAAAAAHHH!" I screamed, doing my best to convey, Dad, save my ass!

The world smeared, my body got crushed by pressure for a moment, and then we were already out on a nighttime clearing, without the blanket. Less than a second later, an eardrum-busting explosion thundered behind us. The small stone building blew apart into shards of rock.

"AAAAAAAAAHHH!" I screamed again, fully realizing what had just happened.

"You're not hurt… Shhh… easy," he tried to calm me. "It's okay…"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" My scream was carrying a whole bunch of meanings, most of them insults. I wanted to say: You inbred runt of a hyena and a buttfucked skunk, what the FUCK are you doing?! Mom was still in there! You got her killed, you dumbfuck! You couldn't throw that fucking blanket somewhere else?! Outside, for fuck's sake?! Like, literally into that fucking forest right in front of us?!

But I cut off my internal rant when it hit me that I couldn't see my mother or that shinobi in the smashed house. It was like they'd just vanished… Unlike the old lady and the young girl.

A lump rose in my throat as I focused again on their mangled bodies. Even under the pile of stones, I could still see them through the obstacles.

Before I could start throwing up from the sight, all my guts clenched and flipped over several times. With a soft pop of air, we moved to some room made mostly of stone and beams. The lump went back down, so nothing came out of my mouth. I noticed lots of gear bags around, and a three-pronged kunai hung from the ceiling.

"I have to save your mother before it's too late," he said, quickly laying me down on a bed that had been set up there. "Wait here a bit. You'll be safe here…"

Whoosh—saying that, the man who was apparently my father—most likely blond—vanished.

I'm out of non-swear words. What a fucking day…

For a moment, silence settled in my head. One more realization…

Fuck. And this still isn't the end. Next they're going to seal the Nine-Tailed Fox into me. My parents are going to die. And I'm about to get up close and personal with the God of Death.

My brain throbbed from the effort. I wanted to figure out how to escape this. But nothing came to mind. I really did not want to meet that scary-ass freak of a god…


A few seconds passed, panic still gnawing at me, when with a heavy clap of air my father appeared—with my mother in his arms.

She's alive… relief fluttered inside me… before bitterness washed through my insides from helpless despair. But not for long…

"W-why?" she asked something, and the man laid her down next to me, but she immediately pulled me close.

"No matter what happens, stay with Naruto," he said, quickly opening one of the cabinets and pulling out a cloak with flames along the bottom and kanji on the back.

"You won't even have time to blink before I'm back," he finished, then vanished in a flash.

"Good luck… Minato… Thank you…" Kushina barely murmured. "Naruto…"

She hugged me a little tighter.

My body, which had been on the edge of madness, somehow started to calm down.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump

The sound of her heart, so familiar… so soothing…

I hadn't even noticed how long it had been with me, or how close it had become.


Seconds ticked by as I lay there with my mother. Explosions boomed from outside, the air grew thick with something heavy that made me shiver in fear of the inevitable. At the same time, I felt myself being wrapped up by an energy that had grown much warmer. My mother's chakra, still just as mighty, but now a lot more gentle. Over time I felt it more and more clearly on me, subconsciously calming down further.

After a few more minutes, with another soft clap of air, we were moved again. Mom was back in Dad's arms, and I was in hers. Together we found ourselves at the edge of a nighttime forest.

"Let's put up a barrier," Minato suggested tiredly.

"My chakra is almost depleted…" Kushina said, and the air vibrated with released energy. Incredibly fast, expanding chains burst from her back. The air filled with the clanging of links. I couldn't see where they went—they left my sphere of vision—but I heard clearly:

"G-R-A-A-A-A-A!!!" came the helpless roar of the strongest tailed beast, and the ground beneath us shook. It was bound, not a shred of hope left.

I was feeling something similar. Something was about to happen… something that could very well end with my death… Or maybe Minato wouldn't summon the Shinigami after all?

My body started trembling with fear again.

Kushina almost collapsed, but Minato caught her—after first smoothly taking me so he wouldn't crush me.

"I'm sorry, Naruto, I didn't mean to wake you…" Kushina's soothing voice reached me. It didn't really help.

Then they started talking about something.

"Kushina…"

"I'll drag the Kyuubi back inside… and die with it still in me…" She drew a sharp breath. "That'll keep it from coming back for a while…"

Minato sighed heavily at her words, looking at my mother with pain in his eyes.

"Thank you… khh," two thin streams of blood ran from the corners of her lips. "For everything…"

"Kushina, you…" tears began gathering in my father's eyes. "You made me your husband… You made me the Fourth Hokage… You made me this boy's father… And I…"

"Don't be sad… Minato. I… I'm happy," a strained smile appeared on Kushina's face. "Happy that it's our son's birthday."

She took a heavy breath.

"If I regret anything… it's that I won't get to see Naruto grow up."

Minato's expression darkened even more. His head dropped, and a shadow slid over his face.

"Kushina, you don't have to take the fox with you," he said, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts. "We can use what's left of our chakra to see Naruto one more time."

"…Huh?" Mom looked at him in surprise.

"I'll use the Eight Trigrams Sealing Style and seal half of the Kyuubi into Naruto. Sealing the whole bijuu is insanely hard… Right now it's physically and conceptually impossible. So I'll seal the other half inside myself…"

"But that's impossible for a non-jinchuriki! Wait, no! You can only do that if you use…"

"The Reaper Death Seal…" he confirmed grimly. "I can't let the bijuu be reborn without a jinchuriki. The balance of the tailed beasts between the villages would be ruined."

Images from the past flashed before the Fourth Hokage's eyes. Him listening to a man with long spiky hair and two lines under his eyes:

"You know, you really might be the child of prophecy."

"What child?" a younger Minato had asked back then.

"One day, in the near future, the shinobi world will be in danger."

And the child of prophecy will save it… echoed in the blond's thoughts now.

Kushina stared at Minato in shock.

"I know what you want to say… But Jiraiya-sensei said a revolution is coming to the shinobi world. And with it, great danger!" His eyes met hers again. "And today I learned two things. First: that masked man who attacked us—he's the herald of that danger. And Naruto will be the one to stop him. A jinchuriki who'll bring light to our future. I just… know it."

Somewhere in the distance, there was the rustle of something landing.

"But… Minato—"

Ignoring her attempt to stop him, my father gently set me down on the ground, then stood and ran through a series of hand seals.

"Just believe in him. After all, he's our son."

That's it… flashed through my head as I braced for the worst. Completely out of hope, I didn't even try to resist.

After the last seal, a strange silhouette slipped out of Minato's body, only to have its hair grabbed and yanked by a huge figure. With my soul vision, I watched an extremely thin being, vaguely human-shaped. Dressed in a baggy robe, with very long hair, and horns jutting from its head. In its hands, the God of Death held a short tanto; its clawed hands pulled open its own clothes. In one palm, it clutched a string of beads.

And… nothing? I noted with faint surprise that nothing was happening to me. Huh… I'd thought this "god" would be something like a guardian of the world who wouldn't tolerate a foreign soul… Guess I shouldn't have read those fanfics… got my expectations all twisted. I focused on the thing that had appeared. So what are you, then? I can't feel your soul. Where is it…? You pulled that thing out of my father… but I don't feel a soul in it either.

"As soon as I'm done with the tailed beast, I'll seal your chakra into Naruto too. You'll meet a grown-up Naruto faster than you think… The time will come when he tries to control the Kyuubi's power. When that happens, I want you there beside him—to help."

"He's our son… That's exactly why I don't want him to bear such a heavy burden alone."

"…"

"But why the Reaper Death Seal? You don't have to die… just so I can see him for a few minutes." Kushina's voice began to crack. "I wanted you to stay with him… to raise him!"

"…"

"…Why? Why are you sacrificing Naruto for the balance of the bijuu? For the village… and the country… Why are you sacrificing yourself for me?"

"Turning your back on your village and country… is no better than abandoning your own child," Minato's voice took on a calm certainty. He was sure of what he was saying. "You know that. You remember what happened to your village. You know the pain of growing up without a home… And you know that we're a family… of shinobi."

Kushina's eyes filled with conflicting emotions.

"Besides," Minato spread his hands a little, "even if I survived, I could never replace you."

"…" Her eyes widened in surprise.

"There are things Naruto needs to know, things I could never tell him myself. That's a mother's duty, and I want you to fulfill it. Even if you only get a few moments…" His eyes narrowed seriously. "I'm not doing this only for you… but for Naruto. Dying to make your son's life better… that's a father's duty."


"The Reaper Death Seal… It can't be?!" a hoarse voice, already tinged with age, shouted. It was a shinobi in a black jumpsuit, a helmet with protection, and a steel plate on his back. In his hands he gripped a thick staff.

He shot a sharp look at the Nine-Tails wrapped in chains, and at the dome that had it trapped, with a pair of shinobi inside. Glowing golden chains ran along the perimeter of the dome, forming the barrier.

"What's going on, Third-sama?!" asked one of the two ninja who had just arrived.

"We're too late. They've put a barrier around the Kyuubi!" The old man stepped up and pressed a hand to the invisible force field. "No way through…"


The beads wrapped around the God of Death's arm, and it became covered in black markings. The arm lengthened, spearing through the belly of Minato's soul, then through the stomach of his real body, and shot toward the tailed beast.

Circling the beast, the arm sprouted countless mouths and hands, sinking into its flesh.

"R-R-A-A-A-A!!!" the Nine-Tails roared. "Damn you, Fourth Hokage!"


"It's shrinking," said the third shinobi by the barrier, watching the huge beast. The chains no longer held it, now hanging with a loud clatter.

"I can't believe he actually used that technique…" the Third Hokage said. "But the fox is still here. He didn't seal it all!"


My mind sank into empty melancholy. My parents were saying something… but I couldn't understand them.

I don't remember my old parents… and now I have to lose the new ones.

So empty…

A fox's head grew out of the head of my father's soul-that-wasn't-a-soul… Eh… that's probably supposed to be funny.

Minato formed a few signs, and an altar with candles appeared beside us. Guess it's time…

Kushina coughed as Minato laid me on the summoned platform.

From the distance came the loud rattling of chains.

"Kushina, help me!" my father shouted, and from my point of view, both of my parents blurred into motion.

"R-R-R-A-A-A!!!" The roar of the Nine-Tails drowned out the crunch of tearing flesh. Minato and Kushina, shielding me with their backs, had stopped the descending claw of the Kyuubi.

The world around me dimmed. A heavy cold filled my body. Only the corners of my eyes burned with the warmth of falling tears.

Through a muffling haze, I heard a commotion; some long toad appeared, but I didn't pay attention. My whole focus was locked on yet another pair of torn bodies. And seeing these hurt much, much worse.

Drip

A drop of warm blood slid down the claw and landed on my stomach. It forced me to focus on the face it belonged to.

"N-Naruto…" blood dripped from her chin, staining her clothes in a pattern like red roses, "don't be a picky eater… eat a lot and grow up to be a big, strong boy! H-ha…"

Beads of sweat dotted her face; every word cost her a huge effort.

"Take a bath every day… go to bed early and sleep well! Make friends… as many as you like… But first make sure they're real friends… people you can trust… Just a few is enough!"

Kushina smiled sincerely, closing her eyes for a moment.

"And study your ninjutsu… I was never good at it. Maybe you'll do better. Everyone's good at something and bad at something else. Don't get upset if you can't do everything. Listen to your teachers at the academy… and remember: avoid the three shinobi taboos… don't borrow money if you can help it. Save what you earn on missions. Don't drink alcohol until you're twenty. And don't drink too much, or you'll wreck your body."

She paused briefly.

"As for women… Well, I'm a woman myself, so I don't really know what to tell you. But one day you'll want to get yourself a girlfriend… Just try not to pick a weirdo… Try to find someone like your mom…"

"And a fourth warning…" Minato's voice came from behind Kushina. "Watch out for Jiraiya-sensei!"

"…Ha… hu," a weak laugh escaped her. "Naruto, you're going to face a lot of pain and suffering… Remember who you are! Find yourself a goal… a dream! And don't stop until you reach it!"

"…"

"I'm sorry, Minato… That used up all our time…"

"It's… all right," my father said, smiling wider, even with just one eye open. "Listen to your chatty mom…"

With Minato's last words, everything was drowned in white light. The Eight Trigrams Seal had been activated.

 

[Welydora]

My mind was blank. With a dragging cold in my chest, I watched as my parents' hearts beat slower and slower.

After the flash, the Nine-Tails moved into the seal on my stomach, which I couldn't even feel. Kushina and Minato just collapsed to the ground, living out their final seconds.

The God of Death still loomed over us. He was giving his summoner his last moments, knowing the man wasn't going anywhere.

Bursts of wind sounded nearby. Three shinobi appeared and, in a panic, rushed toward us. The oldest of them lifted me from the pedestal... Someone familiar? Oooh... a younger Hiruzen... Compared to the pain inside me, though, I felt almost nothing. I'd run out of strength to suffer. Only the burning in my chest stayed.

"Fourth-sama!" a worried jonin shouted, lifting the Hokage into a sitting position.

His comrade did the same for Kushina.

All three stared in alarm at the terrifying, gaping wounds. It was amazing anyone with injuries like that was even still alive.

"Minato... Kushina..." Hiruzen spoke their names with bitterness; his hands trembled.

Don't you go dropping me now... I noted melancholically in my head.

"Hiruzen-sama..." A strained smile appeared on Minato's face again. "Forgive me... I have to leave you..."

The old man turned a desperate gaze to him.

"Please, pass my words to the people of Konoha... I want them not to think of my son as the vessel of a monster... that only brings grief. Let them know him as a hero..."

"Y-yeah..." Hiruzen nodded firmly. "I'll tell them."

"Third..." Kushina said quietly. Hiruzen stepped closer so he could hear her better. "Take care of him..."

"Of course. Don't worry," the old man nodded without hesitation.

"His name... is Naruto..."

…

…

The pull in my chest got even worse...

Kushina's heart stopped.

And it hurt like hell...


Hiruzen watched sadly as the young woman's life ended.

"Kushina-sama," the jonin called, shaking her, but when he turned to the Third, he saw only a slow shake of the head.

The Hokage shifted his gaze to Minato. His eyes had gone lifeless, frozen on the elderly shinobi.

At that moment, the Shinigami moved. With its free hand, the one without the beads, it pulled a tanto from its maw. Then, opening that maw wide, it sucked the "soul" of the Fourth, along with half of the Nine-Tails, into its bottomless stomach. After carefully putting the weapon back, it vanished without sparing anyone a glance.

"Hokage-sama?" asked the shinobi who'd been holding Minato.

"Let's go. We need to take everyone to the hospital... and bury the dead with dignity."

A few days later. Evening

In a spacious office with a view of Konoha, a not-so-young man was once again sitting in the Hokage's chair. Whatever that reincarnator might say, he didn't have any gray hairs yet, so "old man" was a bit of a stretch.

Folding his hands under his chin and lighting his pipe, he sat there, thinking.

Sarutobi Hiruzen was in a foul mood. He had just come back from the cemetery, where they had honored not only two of Konoha's heroes—Minato and Kushina—but also many other Leaf shinobi... and his wife, Biwako. The old lady who'd delivered their baby.

In one moment, problems had piled up higher than his head. But the main question he still couldn't answer was: How? Judging by the wounds on that medic-nin and Biwako, how had someone managed to get into the place where Kushina was giving birth? The Fuinjutsu Division had put the best possible protection seal on that rock. Even he, the Third God of Shinobi, would've had to work on it for a long time to break it. On top of that, there'd been a not-weak team of ANBU on guard outside—operatives who specialized in combat. Yet they were all found strangled; none of them even managed to make a sound—they died right at their posts... After that, the unknown enemy still managed to fight one of the strongest shinobi in the Leaf's entire history—the Fourth Hokage. Even exhausted, Minato, in that state, could've beaten several elite ninja, but he couldn't handle the one who showed up...

Every loss, every burned leaf, echoed as a dull ache in Hiruzen's chest.

In the end, it came out that to pull something like this off, it had to be an insanely strong shinobi. He got into the village in a way the barrier never sensed. Killed so many people... Only someone on the level of Uchiha Madara would be capable of that. The fox's eyes as it broke free had clearly shown a Sharingan, which meant an Uchiha was involved in the incident. But Madara was dead! One of Hiruzen's own sensei, the First Hokage, Hashirama, couldn't have lied... Or could he? Not that it changed much. That enemy wasn't here, unlike a bunch of other problems.

The village was in mourning. A lot of streets and houses were destroyed. That had to be dealt with.

Thankfully, it wasn't as bad as it could've been. As soon as the fighting started, Hiruzen had ordered the young shinobi and civilians hidden under barriers in the bunkers inside the Hokage Rock. The Leaf's future was intact, even if their hearts were wounded. But... time would heal that.

With a sad sigh, Sarutobi exhaled a cloud of smoke, thinking of his wife.

It should heal...

The title of Hokage means a highly respected shinobi who leads the Great Hidden Village of the Leaf. And that title is for life—and even after. Even if a new Hokage is chosen, it doesn't mean the previous one loses his authority.

After the Nine-Tails incident, a village council was convened, and one of the issues raised was the next leader. Hiruzen had readily offered to shoulder that burden again. He understood the village needed a leader, and since Sarutobi already had experience, he was the one who'd handle the aftermath of the tragedy better than anyone.

But one of the councilors—Shimura Danzo—was against it. The councilors' authority was almost equal to that of a Kage. Shimura argued: what kind of Hokage was Hiruzen if he hadn't even managed to protect the Fourth? But Sarutobi defused the situation with a smile, saying he'd hold the post until they found a better candidate.

No one else objected, aside from that same councilor. Even the other two councilors, who often opposed some of Hiruzen's decisions, didn't say a word against it.

And why was that. Sarutobi, though he was a clan ninja, always put the village first. That was the Will of Fire, left behind by the almost-extinct founding clan, the Senju. Despite being one of the strongest in the village and having fought in three wars, the man had stayed soft. At least toward the people of the Land of Fire. It was in his nature to try to solve conflicts peacefully. It wasn't always effective, or even useful. But overall, it worked out okay. The other two councilors disagreed with him on some things, but they respected the title of Hokage and met him halfway. The three of them, by the way, had been on the same team in their youth, led by the Second Hokage. But the Konoha Council also included Danzo—a long-time rival of Hiruzen and pretty much his opposite. Not soft at all, and a fan of radical solutions. In their youth, all four of them had to work together. Later, after the Second's death, it was through that joint work that they managed to create something like a balance of views and, together, lead the village toward prosperity.

Whatever some people might think, Hiruzen, like all the councilors, aimed for Konoha's prosperity. The difference was in the paths they took to get there. Still, the final word was always the Hokage's... even if Shimura sometimes forgot that.

And so, the student of the Second Hokage kept on fulfilling the duties that came with his post.

Uzumaki Naruto's POV

…

Once that nightmare ended, they moved me to a hospital ward, where there were other babies in beds along the sides.

For two days, I just stared at the ceiling and slept. That time was like a fog. Nothing else stuck. Now it's the end of the second day, and I... feel a lot better.

In a short time, I'd gotten really attached to my new parents. I don't know—or don't remember—why, but blood ties mattered to me. And... it was hard to lose them.

Honestly, that applies way more to Kushina. I'd spent almost all my time only with her. For the months I'd been inside her, I mostly felt satisfaction from my progress in manipulating energy, plus a constant warmth and this feeling of support in whatever I tried to do. Without her, the outside world feels so cold... Like they threw me out on the street and then demolished my house right in front of me... Yeah, probably not great to miss a person the same way you'd miss a building? (-_-`)

So my depressive mood started to crack. Besides, what good did it do me anyway? If we're honest, I'd have been evicted from that "house" sooner or later regardless. But there was that warmth I wanted too, just of a different kind now.

Even if it wouldn't have all been smooth, Kushina and Minato were my closest relatives. We could've had a good relationship, mutual support, and all that stuff people like me need. The fact I'm a reincarnator who somehow crawled into the body of their unborn son doesn't bother me at all. My new shell didn't have a personality—what personality are we even talking about at that age—so the shell belonged to no one. Blood ties are undeniable, which means again that Minato and Kushina are my relatives. That's how they should be seen, and the fact my mind appeared in this body doesn't change that at all.

Anyway, again: there's no point thinking about it. They're dead, and I've got to keep existing in this unholy world somehow. Preferably in comfort. And it's still a bit early to think about that. My options for preparing right now are pretty limited.

I swept my "gaze" across a few cribs with "bars" in the rather long room. Once I calmed down, I managed to get my sphere-vision back under control. Meaning I could focus on something, shift my view like I was swiveling a camera floating in the air, or even close the "lens" so I didn't see anything at all.

The room stayed exactly the same as before. I, on the other hand, was slowly getting bored. These two days, I guess, had been a good rest. But with every second, my mind, now recovered, started spitting out more and more intrusive thoughts. The energy was starting to just burst out of me, and it needed direction. So, while there's time, why not start preparing for the future right now?

I "prodded" my chakra core—looked fine. With a light effort of will, I started circulating the energy faster and faster. I clenched my "mighty" little fists, then relaxed them. This energy was so dense... The chakra flowing through my channels was way richer than my soul's energy and, even in a newborn body, surpassed my soul by orders of magnitude.

In the womb, all I'd really done was sometimes send chakra around in circles, without doing anything weird with it. I remembered how members of the Hyuga clan in the anime could block strikes with streams of chakra. So back then, releasing it through those tiny special points—tenketsu, which I barely managed to find and can now feel pretty well—seemed like a bad idea. There were three hundred and sixty-one points—nothing better to do in the womb, so I counted. But now, I'll start slowly trying to let some chakra out.

After about ten minutes, I switched to soul energy. It had gotten stronger, but for some reason my sphere-vision had shrunk compared to what it had been There. As for why, I could only guess it was because of the presence of natural chakra in this world. I literally didn't know what else could be messing with it. Kushina's chakra, even if it was probably different from the world's, had interfered with my soul as well. I should probably be grateful my soul's abilities were only cut by some fraction. Looked like that hit all the abilities that interacted with the outside world. My "feelers" had also gotten a bit harder to make than before.

Those feelers, as far as I remembered, didn't interact with the world at all. Or rather, judging by the resistance I felt when I pushed them out of my body, that wasn't entirely true. But that masked bastard hadn't even noticed them. Which is actually good—I'd just found myself a future project: figure that out. It's not like I've got anything better to do right now anyway.

Twenty minutes later

My mood was getting darker. For another reason, barely related to the last few days' events. Everything around me seemed to grow dimmer, and not because it was evening.

Rage spread through my veins like ice...

With the clang of steel, thoughts overflowing with hatred started echoing in my head.

Pain is the universal language. This world is rotten. It created me exactly like this just to humiliate me. By causing me pain, it clearly showed me it hates me.

But at the same time, the world is blind. It doesn't understand when its actions make others suffer.

But pain gives birth to understanding. Pain is the only way to reach harmony.

This world will know pain. And then it will understand true peace... with me.

"Waa-aa-aaah!" the kid in the next crib suddenly started bawling, cutting off my thoughts.

"A-aa! Mwaaa!"

"Ee-vaaah!"

One after another, to my confusion, the babies around me started crying. What the hell now?

Yeah, I'd shit myself. Literally. And yeah, I was pissed about it. "Cultivating" hatred, you could say. But why react like this? It doesn't even stink... yet.

On the first floor of the hospital

Sarutobi Hiruzen walked into the building, looking grim. Not long ago, he'd held a meeting with the villagers who'd taken part in the fight against the Nine-Tails, though the "old man" hadn't liked how it turned out.

The meeting had been about his new ward, Naruto.

Now, the Hokage had come to check on him.

The hospital was almost in the heart of the village. There was no ANBU security here. Who'd attack a building full of shinobi, even if they were wounded? And do it alone, since getting a pack of shinobi through here unnoticed would be basically impossible.

But, to his surprise, as he approached the stairwell, Sarutobi felt something threatening. He immediately bolted toward where he'd been heading.

At the same time, the escort of a few special shinobi that always followed the Hokage started moving. They caught the hand-signal command from their threat-sensitive leader and instantly headed for different exits. The ninja were hoping to drop the intruder into a kettle, with them on one side and the Kage on the other.

Back to Uzumaki Naruto's POV

Suddenly, the door flew open, and Hiruzen burst in, his two-toned robes swirling around him. (?! ) What the hell is he doing here?! Was he standing outside the door or what? Why?

"Hmm..." He looked around the room. All ten cribs were in place; only kids inside. "Strange."

He said something I didn't get once he'd finished his inspection. I still didn't understand the language. And I had barely any idea how to learn it. But that's something I can work on later.

When the old man rushed in, I got nervous. But then the thought flashed through my head that it was pointless—I couldn't do anything anyway. So I started calming down.

I heard rustling, and before I could even react, a few more ninja appeared in the room. These ones were in black uniforms with gray armor on their torsos and painted porcelain masks.

Is there some kind of masquerade going on around here or what?

"All clear, Hokage-sama. No source of killing intent detected," one of the ANBU operatives reported.

"We lost them..." Hiruzen said darkly. "Sweep the area and the hospital."

"Yes, sir," three shinobi answered at once, then vanished.

The old man kept frowning and glancing around the edges of the room after that. Another half minute later, he let out a heavy sigh and walked over to my crib.

He looks at me, I look at him. To my eyes—which still haven't learned to see the world properly—he's just a dark, blurry silhouette.

"I kept my promise, Naruto..." he said to me, but I still didn't understand the words. "At least, I tried... one of them. I'm sorry, but not all the villagers see you as a hero. The loss of their loved ones has blinded them. Even if they try to show me the opposite. I hope you find the strength in you to forgive these cracked leaves..."

He fell silent for a few seconds.

"Your chakra reacts in time with my voice. And at the same time there are so many different shades in it. An emotional child... I hope you don't cause as much trouble as your mother did," he chuckled to himself.

The door opened again, and this time another old man came in, with a cross-shaped scar under his lips. His clothes were also in two colors—probably white... and something else, darker than the Hokage's.

What the hell is he doing here?!

"Danzo?" Hiruzen was surprised too, though not as much as I was.

"I was going to wait for you at the residence, but I sensed killing intent," he answered coldly, then turned to me for a second. "Is everything alright?"

"No, since someone showed up," the Hokage's frown came back. "We couldn't find them."

"I still propose we leave him with me in Root. The jinchuriki will be safe there."

"And I still say that's not happening," Sarutobi's tone got a lot more heated. "To grow up whole, a child needs to know what care is."

"No. He needs to live through hardship to grow strong and understand his place," Shimura got a glare filling up with anger in response to his words. "Hn. Have it your way."

"I'll arrange surveillance for him. Naruto's safety is my concern. He was entrusted to me, so I'll handle everything else," and just as fast as Hiruzen had gotten angry, he calmed back down. "Why did you come?"

"Funding."

Sarutobi's face twitched.

"Is everything alright, Hokage-sama, Elder-sama?" a nurse suddenly stepped into the room.

"Yes," the one called "Hokage" nodded and waved her off. Then he turned to the other man. "Let's go. This isn't the place."

Well, that was a conversation, I noted once they'd all left. Fantastic. So what the hell am I supposed to think now? Am I moving into Root's basements or what? Yeah?


Time started to gallop.

No, they didn't take me anywhere.

But with each passing day, life didn't feel any easier. If anything, it got harder. My mind, though it had kind of gotten used to it, still missed the constant stream of information and was howling from boredom. Training with energies was, sure, a fun activity. But I couldn't do it non-stop. On top of that, there was the problem of slow progress. That slowness just got more obvious over time. Not only because I kept running out of ideas for what to do, but also because my activity–sleep cycle had shifted more toward activity.

The pressure in my head kept ramping up, like... I'd been locked in solitary. No human interaction, no way to move properly. Even working with energy didn't help shake that feeling off. I don't actually know what solitary is really like—never been. But I guess it's something similar.

Two more weeks passed like that, until my genius mind came up with an equally genius idea. Or rather, after two weeks, I learned to really throw myself into a certain activity—meditation.

Sadly, I didn't have internet access. There wasn't even internet in this world. So I had to meditate by feel, going off whatever I understood "meditation" to be. Focusing on different thoughts, then on the world around me, then on the "inner" side of my being. It was that last one that fascinated me the most—the endless flow of chakra through my channels, which I couldn't exactly see but could feel in crazy detail, so a phantom image of my chakra system formed in my head.

For some reason, meditation never got boring. That wonderful state of calm, as the days went by, took the pressure off me. The days started flying by way, way faster than before. Later, I even started catching myself spending whole days in complete silence doing literally nothing. So I had to start planning things out, setting a goal to spend at least some time every day on self-improvement. Luckily, I had some experience with that—forcing myself to do something useful and a rough idea of what discipline is.

Six months later

Sadly, I hadn't been counting how many days I'd lived since I was born, but over my relatively short life so far, there had been a few events worth a quick mention. They'd moved me several times to different rooms with other kids my age living there. Right now I spend most of my time in a private ward in the same hospital. Sometimes they drag me out to a shared room for the "conditionally-sapient vegetables." In other words, to my peers.

After some amount of time, my paws got strong enough that I learned to walk. It was when they took me to my age group that I got especially physically active. Concentrating on anything more mentally demanding in the middle of constant, unintelligible babbling was harder, so I didn't have many other options. Usually I'd wander around and, like some kind of maniac, stare at the babies for several minutes at a time. Maybe my behavior looked weird from the outside, but sometimes it was fun.

Right now...

A guy with a bored face was standing by my crib, leaning over the bars of my "prison." He was showing me cards with pictures and hieroglyphs and then saying what I was almost a hundred percent sure was the word for whatever was on the card.

"Yoru," he said, showing me a night sky with little stars and a moon. Below was the hieroglyph 夜.

"Y-yo-ru," I repeated. Pretty sure that meant "night."

He suddenly said a word that sounded a lot like "sucky," then pointed at the moon. That threw me, and since I didn't answer, the guy repeated himself and pulled a card with a huge moon from the stack on the nightstand and showed it to me.

"Tsu‑u‑ki‑i," he drew the word out, repeating it.

Aaaah... it finally clicked that I'd just misheard.

"Tsuki. (日)"

So my language lessons had started recently. Honestly, proud of my outstanding intellect—among infants for sure—I spent a bit of time pretending I didn't get what they wanted from me. Not for too long, though. I remembered that in the world of Naruto—now my world—there were "geniuses" who could do a crazy amount at a very young age.

First half hour I played dumb on purpose, the next two... because of "enunciation issues"?

I hadn't practiced speaking before and eventually just forgot about it. But if they'd come to teach me, it meant my body had to be capable of something along those lines.

Fact was, by then my body's eyesight had developed enough for this kind of thing.

And also, I wanted my first word to be something special.

That's where the "enunciation issues" came in.

Imagine my surprise when they handed me a card with three whole hieroglyphs, 査克拉, and showed me a picture I remembered clearly—a little guy with channels and a flame in his stomach. "Sa-ku-ra," if you write it out in romaji. Not to be confused with "sa-kura," which is the local cherry tree with pink leaves. The first has three syllables, the second has two, and they sound different.

The word "chakra" was what I ended up saying first, and for some reason I'm weirdly proud of that now.

At first, I doubted these cards were even supposed to have hieroglyphs on them. What business do babies have learning to read? But, as it turned out later, there's plenty of point.

After about a month, when I'd learned a couple hundred words, the lessons switched to groups of three. So besides me, there were two other kids my age, and still one instructor. And that's when I realized I'd apparently been subconsciously downplaying my own intellect. And way too much at that. Because my peers, who I thought would be at least a little behind, had actually overtaken me. The brains in the two little skulls on either side of me were working so fast they were beating me to the answers! So I had to really push myself for a while before our pace evened out and then I finally pulled ahead.

Are kids at this age really supposed to be able to do that? We aren't even a year old yet, I think.

Apparently, yeah. But the record of the time I lost to babies will forever remain a shameful stain on my life's history... Same as every time I went in my diaper... The only good thing is that no one will ever know.

 

[Welydora]

I'm a year and a half old. They showed me where the calendar was and explained when I was born, so now I know. During this time, I've been moved again, and now they drag me off for the whole day to be with kids who are nothing like the drooling vegetables I was used to. The children here… well, I'm no expert, but it seems to me they're developing way too fast. Either that, or I've landed in some kind of prodigy group. After all, they, much like me, are capable of primitive conversation! In my opinion, that's a terrifying accomplishment for this age.

Having gotten used to my situation, I started looking at things more positively. Instead of beating myself up, I looked for fun in my surroundings. For instance:

"What you doing?" I pestered a boy one day, who was building some lumpy, squarish thing in the sandbox that looked a lot like piles of dung.

"A fortress," he answered immediately, not looking up from his task.

I watched him work for a few seconds. Then I proclaimed:

"It fall down."

He froze, then turned to me.

"I know death. Existence finite," I said, glancing at his structure. "Sand fall to dust. You die. Because you build bad fortress."

For about fifteen seconds, you could practically hear the gears grinding in the boy's head as he tried to understand what I'd said. Then horror dawned on his face.

"How fall? Good fortress! Don't wanna die!"

"Fortress—bad!" I declared, maintaining the most serious expression I could muster on my chubby toddler face. "Wall crooked. Tower tilted. Sand… wet? Ew!"

I poked one of the "towers" with my finger, and it collapsed with a sad splat.

"You… you broke it!" The boy's eyes filled with tears. "My fortress."

"Fortress is dead," I stated, nodding my head like a wise old sage. "You dead too. Soon."

The boy sniffled, staring at me with wide eyes.

"But… but I don't wanna die!" he repeated, starting to sob. "I… I'll build good fortress!"

He immediately began scooping sand with renewed enthusiasm, trying to give it shape.

I moved closer, leaned in, and whispered conspiratorially:

"You know what else dies?"

The boy froze, afraid to look up at me.

"What?" he whimpered.

"Relax. I joke," I said, patting him on the shoulder, which only brought a look of confusion to his already tear-streaked face. "You not die if fortress die. Not connected. Gotcha." I gave him an apologetic smile.

"Y-you," he stammered, realization dawning. "Bad joke!"

Strange, but the kids never got my humor right away. At first, they even disliked me… However, I knew when to stop, even if not always on time. Which eventually let me blend into the group. So they probably didn't think I was insane, just… "special." Ahem.


Time passed; everything moved forward. My development was multifaceted. Right now, I'm listening to a fairy tale with the other one-year-olds… for the second time, the same one. It wasn't very entertaining. So I kind of tuned out, sinking into my thoughts.

My progress in mastering chakra and soul energy hadn't stalled either, even if it was proceeding at a rather measured, calm pace.

The flow of chakra was becoming much easier to control. My reserve itself had grown by about one and a half times, even though I wasn't really spending much energy. My main activity with chakra involved moving it along its natural pathways (channels) and honing minor manipulations that wouldn't leave any traces.

At this point, I had polished the "adhesion" skill using chakra, and from that, the Chakra Threads. At less than a year old, while also developing my hand motor skills, I tried to kind of hook the chakra in the pads of one hand's fingers onto the other, and then do the same using chakra in both hands. Strangely enough, I managed it pretty quickly back then, after which I began to build my mastery of this skill.

After some more time, I started learning to concentrate and stretch out chakra. First between my palms, creating balls of blue energy that spat out blue flares. Then I'd lengthen it, manipulating it like a Chakra Thread. Or rather, an actual thread, visible thanks to the concentration of energy. After that came practicing the trick in all sorts of variations: more threads; greater dissipation—to make them invisible; forming them into different shapes, like with soul energy; and whatever else came to mind. Chakra was harder to control, but its power was impressive and mesmerizing. Even though I never used it for mass destruction. But it felt like something inside me, in a barely audible whisper, was telling me that I could. Oh, I definitely could. This world will yet feel my hatred! Mwahahaha! Okay, that last part was extra.

There was progress with my soul energy, too. My control had grown significantly. I'd pushed it to two techniques.

First: by twisting and contorting my mind in every way possible, I managed to make soul energy interact with the real world. To do this, I had to really strain myself, forcing the energy to shift… into something I'd felt out, and then, for example, the tendrils could actually touch and move things. The only problem was that these tendrils had very little strength. At this point, having developed this ability quite a bit, I could maybe lift a couple of mugs.

The second ability could basically be counted as two. By moving in another something… that I don't understand, I somehow managed to stick my soul's arm out of my physical arm! Thankfully, by returning the limb to its place and, after some mental huffing and puffing, I got everything back to normal. It was a prospect… the possibility of leaving my body. But I had no intention of using it. One, there was no guarantee I wouldn't go straight to reincarnation after something like that. Two, there was no guarantee I'd be able to possess another body. Three, I was already starting to like this body with its powerful chakra; I was used to it, so I wasn't going to change it.

And… with these thoughts, I came up with another motivation for not doing that. In fact, it was a reason to do the opposite—to stay and "grind" like ten gym bros combined. This world will soon have, if it doesn't already, an organization called Akatsuki. They want to gather all the Tailed Beasts to resurrect the Ten-Tails and plunge the world into an eternal genjutsu with its help. Of course, they have their reasons for it. But the truth is, if I remain Naruto and stay weak, then I'll likely face a fate possibly worse than death. I'll be taken, half-dead, to the vessel of the Ten-Tails, and they'll drain all my chakra into it.

Chakra is said to be composed of Yin and Yang, where Yang is physical energy and Yin is spiritual energy… And frankly, I find that statement dubious. I can more or less clearly feel these two energies in my core, and I can combine them to create chakra. It's an extremely natural process, barely perceptible to my consciousness. In contrast to separating the two components, which I've never been able to do, though I tried hard. But my soul energy is different from Yin, which I also feel quite clearly. From this, I can vaguely surmise that having my chakra extracted isn't a mandatory death sentence for my soul… But that's a hypothesis, not a certainty. Everything needs to be double-checked. With stakes as high as my very existence, it's better to assume the worst. Which means, to avoid kicking the bucket, I have to grind.

I also considered the option of taking the risk and switching bodies. But that's even worse: this body, I assume, would die without a soul. It's not like everyone has one for no reason. Or it would become… not right. Or I'd simply hand control of the body over to my doppelgänger… In short, the idea already stinks. But it gets worse. Let's say this body dies. The world will be left without a shinobi who could have become very strong—considering this chakra core. Meanwhile, let's say I successfully possess an adult body to make life more convenient. Would I be able to become just as strong in another body to stand against the same Akatsuki? I don't know; it's doubtful. If not, then the Akatsuki capture the bijuu, after which they cast the eternal genjutsu. Every inhabitant of the planet, including me, becomes fertilizer for the tree that drains chakra. Quite possibly, along with the soul.

For the same reason, I can't just possess a body and hide out on another continent—death awaits everywhere if I don't grind. Therefore, I have to grind.

Still, not everything is as bad as it might seem at first glance. No, it's all crap. Just not the worst kind.

Self-improvement is something you can get used to. Moreover, you can even enjoy it. I've been convinced of that since my past life—my trips to the gym will confirm that. So this life might not be so bad after all. Which means there's no point in inventing things to worry about.

"One day, on the darkest of nights, when the fog was especially thick, a stranger infiltrated the village. He was a shinobi from another land, known for his cruelty and thirst for power…" one of the caretakers continued. I returned to the real world. Another bout of introspection was over, so I'd have to alleviate my boredom some other way.

Putting on my most dignified expression, I discreetly separated my soul's arm from my physical one. It was invisible to others.

"His name was Kazuki, and he had come to seize the spring and use its power for his evil purposes…"

All just so its finger could end up in my nose and start casually digging around. Of course, in a way that made it feel like a foreign object was in there.

Yeah, this was exactly what the technique was worth mastering.

Interlude: Sarutobi Hiruzen

A year and a half had passed since the Kyuubi incident. Sitting in his office, the Hokage was taking stock.

A great deal had been done in that time. In minutes, the Fox had destroyed numerous buildings that needed to be rebuilt. Almost through the center of the village, albeit at an angle, there had swept the strongest technique of the Tailed Beasts—a sphere, the bijuudama. The Fourth, of course, had managed to teleport it away with his technique, preventing it from detonating within the village. But the kilometer-long gash of obliterated structures had only been partially restored by now. All efforts were first directed at rebuilding the most essential buildings. Even so, only now had the Ninja Academy itself been rebuilt.

There was, of course, some good in this period. Simply in the fact that it wasn't as tense as the years of the Great Ninja War… Things were, for the most part, a little quiet. Relatively.

Konoha had recently been shaken by the case of a certain Might Duy. A very, extremely persistent ninja. To think, he became a junior shinobi, a genin, at three and a half years old. Though he remained a genin three decades later, the man had shown the highest valor and courage in March of the previous year. Using a forbidden technique, fatal to the user, he protected the team entrusted to him, which included his son, from an elite squad of Hidden Mist ninja. The Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist were effectively disbanded, as four of them were killed by a Konoha shinobi.

Thankfully, there had been no more shocks for the Leaf. The same couldn't be said for the Mist, where a year later, just days ago, a child not yet a genin had slaughtered all the academy graduates. Hiruzen deeply disapproved of Kiri's customs. A caste system reigned there, where members of the lowest—the third—were forced to kill their comrades upon graduation.

But no matter how much Sarutobi disliked the shinobi world and its particular quirks, there was little he could change. Especially in a land as distant as the Land of Water. Likewise, as Hokage, he had to focus on the affairs of the village he led.

Undoubtedly, the greatest tragedy for the aging man was the Leaf's casualties. In a mere few minutes of the Fox's rampage, hundreds of shinobi had laid down their lives… Time had scabbed over the wounds. They no longer hurt, but they remained visible. The Kage did everything in his power so the residents of Konoha could live at least as they had before. Even if not everything went as he would have liked.

Remembering those events, images of the child he had promised to care for often flashed through the Hokage's mind. Uzumaki Naruto—that was the name recorded in the documents, so as not to expose him to his father's many enemies. Despite the Fourth Hokage's young age, Hiruzen found it difficult to say with whom the Fourth hadn't yet gone to war and, accordingly, managed to build friendly relations. Therefore, it was forbidden for anyone to speak of Naruto's parents. An unnecessary risk would be… unnecessary.

Little remained of the couple's property, including Uzumaki Kushina's. Unfortunately, their house had been almost in the center of Konoha, slightly to the west. Right where the bijuu's technique had flown. And all that was left there was a huge bald patch of land with the rubble of hundreds of homes. Of course, Minato, as Sarutobi knew, had secret safe houses. But Hiruzen didn't know where they were. They were secret, after all. The parents had left their son only their techniques and a small apartment Konoha had issued to his father back in his student days.

Many shinobi who survived the fight with the Kyuubi were unwilling to simply let go of their losses. Hiruzen could understand them, he truly could; he had lost his wife then. But to start blaming everything on the child who became the beast's vessel was absurd. An absurdity that, due to spreading rumors, became reality.

The Hokage passed a law forbidding anyone from saying that Naruto was the jinchuriki of the Nine-Tails. Especially to the younger generation. The man didn't know who exactly had spread the word about the jinchuriki's appearance: one of the ninja who helped during the attack; some medical-nin who easily sensed the bijuu's constantly leaking chakra; or some overly perceptive, gossip-mongering cleaning lady who, based on the "fox whiskers," correctly guessed everything. Sarutobi was sure of only one thing: someone didn't have the brains to keep their mouth shut about it. And Hiruzen had been irritated by this for some time. So irritated that he enacted the law and punished its violation harshly. He was disgusted that some would spit on the Village's principles. To hell with the term "village weapon," they were, first and foremost, willing to harm a resident of Konoha! It was outrageous!

Catching himself on these negative thoughts, Hiruzen stopped abruptly. He reflexively reached for his pipe, lit the tobacco, and took a deep drag of smoke. Calm returned as quickly as it had vanished.

Time will pass… and things won't be so bad. Naruto is only in the hospital for now, nothing threatens him there, and he won't be able to feel the villagers' hatred. By the time he enters the outside world, they will have calmed down.

Naruto is a year and a half now, right? It's been over six months since the ANBU stopped watching him. That incident with the bloodlust in the hospital wasn't ignored. But a completely quiet year, without a single need for shinobi surveillance, led to the watch being called off.

Sarutobi occasionally, not often, looked at the reports on Naruto. He was almost immediately placed in the group of children with the highest potential. Unsurprising, considering how strong his parents were. More importantly, he should already be able to speak a little…

Hiruzen glanced at his desk. Empty; all the papers had been reviewed and processed. He turned around and saw the yellowing evening sky.

"Just the right opportunity," the man noted, rising from his chair. "I made a promise, and my words are not empty. It's time to meet Naruto in person. And while I'm at it, tell him that I'm his…"

Uzumaki Naruto's POV

Sitting in my room, I was habitually stretching chakra threads between my fingers and forming them into various shapes. Completely by accident, and sometimes not at all, they would form into something indecent.

Evening, as one could tell from the view out the window. It would have been no different from any other, if not for a familiar old man in spacious white and red robes who appeared in my sphere-like vision, which had grown to almost seven meters. White and red, specifically. By shifting my perception in a similar way, I was able to perceive colors, though not as well as with my eyes.

A slight tension came over me. I was about to have a more conscious meeting with the leader of the entire village, who… as I recalled from my meta-knowledge, was supposed to be a reasonable old man. Well, within the bounds of an unreasonable world with magic energy and perpetual wars… Recalling fanfiction, I imagined some kind of evil schemer who was probably here to bring me another dose of arsenic, just to make sure life wasn't too sweet. On the other hand… I didn't remember anything like that from the source material, and more importantly, in my entire life here, I had never once been "mistreated" by the local staff. They didn't even whip me or send me to the galleys. Which meant I shouldn't see him as someone bad just yet. And I definitely shouldn't worry. Especially considering the fact that, while I'd feel bad for Kushina, I could try to separate from my body and just bail from this world.

The arguments seemed sound. However, I couldn't completely shake the jitters. Which resulted in some strange actions:

Out of a subconscious, unthinking desire not to "reveal" my abilities, I immediately stopped my chakra manipulations and put on my dumbest expression. Then I jumped off the bed (from which the "bars" had been removed) and walked over to the wall to stare at it.

The door opened, and the old man with hints of gray in his hair froze in the doorway.

"…What are you doing?"

"Wall is pretty." I turned around. "Should knock. I training."

"Training?" he asked again.

"Yes. Stare at wall and think how to conquer world."

The Hokage was speechless for a moment.

"A-ahem… And how is that going?"

"Bad. No money, no army, no plan. But I working on it," I declared with the utmost seriousness.

Meanwhile, my evil inner troll rubbed its belly in satisfaction. It was pleased with its work. Hiding anxiety behind absurd humor was a good tactic, and if necessary, I wouldn't hesitate to use it.

"…May I come in?"

"Be my guest," I shrugged calmly, walking closer.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked as he entered, his eyes scanning the moderately furnished room. Quality, though sparse, furniture: a bed, a wardrobe, and a small table made to my height with two cushions by it. Excellent finishing, light tones, soft light from the lamp.

"Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiru-pzen," I nodded importantly, ignoring the mistakes in my speech. It was still a bit difficult for me, and now, being nervous, even more so. "Uzumaki Naruto."

I introduced myself, and Hiruzen's gaze softened for a moment, but then he returned to what he had just heard:

"…Do you really think about conquering the world? Where did you even learn such words?"

"Books. In library. Lots of villains there want conquer world," I shrugged. "I can too. But I do better."

The Hokage paused for a second, clearly trying to decide if this was a joke or not, and finally let out a heavy sigh.

"Listen, Naruto… You wouldn't be teasing a poor, feeble old Hokage, would you?"

Emotions jumped inside me, and the old man let out a small huff of a laugh. Uh-oh, he saw through me. But! Maintain composure!

My face became important, and I looked Sarutobi over with an equally important gaze.

"My peers not able to understand my jokes. Now I see why you are Hokage." I gave him a thumbs-up and finished with, "When I rule world, you be my deputy?"

"…"

Did I break him?

"Khm-khm," oh, he's alive.

"So… let's change the subject," he finally said.

"Let's."

"I actually just came to meet you. And also, I am… your guardian…"

"O-o-oh…" I was genuinely surprised. "Officially?"

"That's right, Naruto."

"That's good! Means I live with you? You will cover me from tax agency?"

"What…? N-no!"

"A shame. You look kind. Could be fun with you. Then just from tax agency, yes?"

"No, you don't understand." Hiruzen was clearly out of his element, as if he'd stumbled into some den of chaos. He tiredly rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "I'm sorry… I would like to take proper care of you, but I am the Hokage. I'm truly sorry, but I have to leave you here… There are caretakers here, other children. You'll be better off here."

"O-oh…"

"As for the tax agency. Where did you even hear about it? Taxes? Isn't it a bit early to be telling children about such things?" He was already speaking more to the air than to me. But I cut in.

"They didn't tell me. It's also from books."

"Oh-h… Such a smart child. We will be seeing each other more often now. You don't mind, do you?"

I shook my head no.

"Good… I'm sorry, but I don't have much time."

"Yes… It was nice to meet you, Hokage-sama."

"Yes, be well, Naruto."

Finishing his sentence, Hiruzen calmly left the room and closed the door. Then, thinking no one could see him, he exhaled with his whole chest, even bending over, and wiped his forehead with his hand. Only after straightening up and finding his pipe in his robes did he move away from my room, nervously but quickly.

Yeah… He probably won't be visiting me again anytime soon. An amusing, easily flustered old man, as I already mentioned. So innocent, as if he still sees something wrong with covering for people and blatant nepotism. A strange politician. Or maybe I just shouldn't have read so many different publics and forums that dump shit on everyone, because people aren't as bad as they might seem. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'll see what kind of person he is over time. A first impression is good, but it can only reveal a part of a personality. It'll take a long time to paint the full picture of who Hiruzen is.

My regret that I wouldn't be living with him was genuine. It seemed like it would be fun to spend time with him, and he didn't seem like a bad person after all. I'm a little bored here; life is quite monotonous. Of course, I'm used to it, but the routine… Also, I shouldn't forget my mercenary desires. The Hokage himself would surely have things to teach, as well as a whole library on chakra. A shame I won't get access to it. For now… But later, I must try to fix that…

Walking over to the bed, I sat down and, with an innocent face, began to think about how I could grab as much as possible for myself. Techniques, for example.

As I know, shinobi can sense lies. Worming my way into his trust on a lie won't work. And I'm not good at that anyway. So… I just have to do it sincerely. Sounds like a good idea. As for the plan… I need groundwork to build it on. And since there's no groundwork, there's no point in racking my brain over it.

Ugh… What a villain I am. Thinking directly about personal gain, without the prism of the common good. I must have grown up in a bad society, a society that imposed the idea of the individual's insignificance before the collective of the same kind. If only I could remember more details… And why I always put myself first. But that's probably not destined to happen.

However, the extent of my "villainy" is debatable. Because to the same extent, I feel that I can look down from the pedestal of my own importance and see other pedestals—pretty high ones too… And why am I justifying myself, telling myself I'm not that much of a stale loaf of bread? Remembering how and why I had a meltdown during the events of my birth, it's crystal clear that's not true. Oh, right, I heard somewhere that this kind of introspection promotes self-discovery and can give you a lot of positive things I've already forgotten about. Or drive you into depression. Or it's all nonsense?

Okay… Considering where these thoughts are heading, I should stop. I was practicing chakra shape manipulation before, so I'll just continue with that.

 

[Welydora]

Time took off at a gallop again, and I didn't even notice another year go by. Now I was two years and… almost nine months old. The days flew by just as fast, but they were also getting more monotonous, which slowly started to put me in a bit of a funk.

Right now I was sitting in my room, waiting for Hiruzen. He'd dropped by a few times over this period; we'd talk a little, and that was it. To my disappointment, the amusing old geezer had quickly developed an immunity to my behavior. Making his brain freeze from pure absurdity was getting harder and harder. Today, though, he was supposed to tell me something important, or so he said.

In the time that had passed, I'd made a bit of progress in controlling my energies, but not much more than that. Training was getting more and more monotonous and, it seemed to me, way too limited. With each passing day, that unpleasant feeling of falling behind kept growing.

Ever since birth, I'd been sneaky whenever I used my energies. Even I don't really know why; I just had this gut feeling that not hiding it would be dangerous. It seemed like it'd be extremely weird if someone found an infant practicing techniques. My imagination would then happily draw pictures of me being hauled off to some dark basement, where a bunch of blond-haired "mind‑scramblers" would install a whole stack of mental backdoors for loyalty to every boss in the Leaf. As far as I remembered, Konoha had the Yamanaka clan, specialists in mental techniques. I also remembered a lot of stories and write‑ups about them where the Yamanaka were portrayed as the guard dogs of the "evil" advisors and the Hokage, brainwashing absolutely everyone in Konoha into loyalty.

Back then, right after I was born, a whole mess of images about this world got jumbled together in my head, and it wasn't clear which one was actually true.

Of course, I didn't remember ever actually being in any basements. There were only paranoid thoughts that if I showed myself to be even a little "off," that's where I'd end up. But now all those assumptions were collapsing like a house of cards. The local caretakers did, of course, read us fairy tales about various heroes who sacrificed their lives for their country/village or whatever. But that, as far as I was concerned, was within the usual bounds of building people's moral compass, not aggressive propaganda. No one ever told us straight up, "You must die for the Leaf!" And they didn't treat us—the little kids—badly either. They weren't training fighters from birth. Technically, instilling any principles is propaganda. But when it's aimed at kids my age, it's called "upbringing." It just helps you function in society.

And that was not the picture all the stuff I'd read had taught me to expect… Hiruzen himself didn't seem like some villain at all. Judging by how he reacted to my various suggestions for shady schemes, he was damn near a saint. Or an insanely good actor—which I doubted.

So yeah, what I'm getting at is that maybe I don't really need to hide anymore. Or more like, considering how much my progress has slowed, I almost can't afford to. The Akatsuki… Every day brings me closer to meeting them. And as long as I'm not strong enough to stand up to them, there's this constant little drip of anxiety in the back of my mind that never goes away.

What's much worse… I watched Boruto. Or rather, I know about the threat of the Otsutsuki clan. Aliens who might end up stronger than the strongest shinobi in history. Thoughts about them even keep me from sleeping sometimes. But to deal with all of that…

Let's say I reveal some of my chakra‑control tricks to Hiruzen. By his own words, I'm already old enough for some Serious Talk or whatever, which means they're unlikely to find anything too suspicious in what I know. And since Hiruzen is my guardian, then after I show him, maybe—guided by the simple "don't waste talent" principle—he'll get me some teachers, most likely give me access to some kind of training ground, and I'll be able to develop properly. I'm guessing it'll be many times faster than now. So I figure this upcoming conversation is a good chance to steer things that way.


Hiruzen and I were walking through the streets of Konoha. It was the first time I'd ever left the hospital‑slash‑daycare they kept me in.

The village's main landmark was the massive cliff with the four Hokage faces carved into it. Although, from the books I'd read, I knew that obviously wasn't the only thing here. The village, as far as I knew, was pretty big. The population was definitely over a hundred thousand if you counted civilians.

Most people here seemed to go for dark tops—black, blue, that sort of thing—and usually green‑ish bottoms. Well, at least that applied to shinobi—the guys wearing the metal forehead protector with the village symbol. A lot of them also had this habit of wrapping their lower legs in bandages, which seemed weird and uncomfortable to me. My pants, for example, had an elastic band at the bottom, so I didn't have to keep wrapping fabric around my legs all the time.

My own outfit didn't stand out at all—just a simple, comfortable black jumpsuit.

We were walking down a medium‑wide street where ten people could easily pass side by side. The buildings here were packed in tight. There were a lot of them—some pretty low, others towering more than ten stories above the street. Sometimes you could see bridges connecting buildings right over our heads. Huge signs with kanji or pictures trying to lure in customers were everywhere. The buildings themselves often looked clunky, archaic, like they'd been put up by architects from different schools who, at those same schools, clearly never got more than a C at best. Looking at the roofs of some houses or their plumbing really made me want to spit out a couple of unprintable words.

On the other hand, maybe I was being too harsh. This world had gone down a different development path. The tech here was similar, but not the same. The streets were pretty clean, it didn't stink. And that alone was a huge plus.

"Impressive?" the Hokage asked as we walked, watching me out of the corner of his eye as I twisted my head around, taking everything in.

"Not quite what I was expecting," I answered honestly, still walking. "I saw some of the landmarks in textbooks. They looked more… organic. But here… Architecture as a field isn't really popular around here, huh?"

Over time and with a lot of practice, my speech had lost its childish mistakes. And after talking with Hiruzen for so long, I'd stopped getting nervous around him and had become much more open.

"The people who built this often had no formal education. Many buildings are only still standing because they were reinforced with shinobi techniques…" the old man explained lazily, starting to look around with a hint of nostalgia. "This place reminds me of my childhood. I remember how every year I walked through here, it changed. It's only in the last twenty years that they've stopped putting up new buildings."

"Interesting…"

We kept walking wherever it was we were heading. Once I'd finished inspecting the buildings, my gaze switched to the passersby. A lot of them kept throwing glances at Hiruzen and me, often bowing to him and stepping aside to let us pass. The old man was clearly respected.

What was kind of strange was that I didn't feel any of those "hateful" glares aimed at me. A few people did widen their eyes when they looked specifically at me, but almost immediately, once they noticed the Hokage, they either gave him another little bow or just turned away.

"This is one of the better spots. Naruto, want some ramen? My treat." We suddenly stopped in front of what looked like a tiny open‑fronted eatery. Kind of like a garage, only instead of a roll‑up door there were fabric flaps with "Ramen" written on them, and inside you could see a counter with stools.

"I've never tried it. I'd be grateful."

We went inside and were greeted by a man with a somewhat gaunt face, wearing a white chef's hat and an apron. That was the cook. He greeted Hiruzen respectfully and asked what we'd be having.

They helped me climb up onto a stool, and I picked a standard beef ramen. This was that ramen shop—the one the original Naruto used to eat at all the time. I recognized it by the cook—Teuchi. It was a legendary place in its own way, and I didn't want to ruin my first impression with something weird. The Hokage, for his part, ordered ramen with some kind of seaweed and sardine fish balls. To my past‑life palate that had been spoiled by European cuisine, his food had to taste… strange. But hey, to each their own.

"What I want to tell you is very important, Naruto."

Sluuuurp—I noisily sucked the noodles into my mouth and then nodded with great seriousness.

"Ahem… Your nindo. Have they told you about it?"

Gulp.

"Yeah. The ninja way."

"It's a ninja's way of life, their motto, their convictions or… their dream," he began, ticking them off. "Nindo can be anything. Even something society doesn't really accept. Every shinobi has their own nindo."

"M‑hm…"

"It doesn't have to be something rigid. Shinobi often follow two or more nindo. Different shinobi can also follow the same nindo. Right now I want to tell you about the nindo that almost all of Konoha's shinobi follow: the Will of Fire."

"Oh, I've heard of that," I nodded. "We have to choose what we're going to fight for. Set a goal in front of us and move toward it."

"That's right, but not the whole picture," Hiruzen smiled at my answer and went on. "It's the Will of Fire that gives Leaf shinobi the strength to fight no matter the circumstances. It strengthens their will, their character. But it's also a symbol of how the dreams and hopes of the previous generations are passed on to the next ones. That's how the Will of Fire lives on through the ages."

"The caretakers said it goes back to when ninja first appeared. Is that true?" I remembered again what I'd heard in the hospital. I didn't recall that kind of detail from the anime, but I was curious.

"In truth, no one knows for sure. As for the Will of Fire… you were right about the goal," the old man confirmed with another smile, then continued, sounding more and more inspired. "But it would be more accurate to say it can be anything. You can choose a person or people you want to protect. For example, I protect the civilians who can't defend themselves. That's my 'king' in shogi. That's where my Will of Fire lies."

Here they had the local version of chess—shogi. That game also had a king piece you had to protect, or the game was over.

Once he finished his speech, he looked at me expectantly, clearly waiting for something.

"Uh… wow?" It didn't really hit me.

Hiruzen's shoulders slumped.

"The First Hokage once told me this. And I was deeply impressed back then…" Sighing, the old man finally dug into his food, popping a fish ball into his mouth.

"Don't be upset, Lord Hokage," I patted his hand, since I couldn't reach his shoulder. "Everyone feels things differently. Don't blame yourself. I think nindo is important, sure, just… in its own way for everyone."

"It's the foundation of life…" the words slipped out of him, strained. "The thing thousands live for. But you're probably right, Naruto."

We ate in silence for about half a minute, until the old man, having gotten over his bout of sadness a bit, perked up—just enough to ask me a question:

"Naruto, have you chosen your nindo yet?"

I thought about it. Grind so I don't die? A temporary one, I guess I already had. Why not share it, after tweaking and adding a bit?

"Not my main one… more like a draft. It's similar to the Will of Fire. But different. Sadly, there's no one and nothing for me to protect except myself." I stirred the ramen with my chopsticks, then turned to Hiruzen. "You can protect yourself better than I ever could, hah. Me, I… want to protect myself and whatever becomes important to me. Maybe friends… maybe someday… a family. And also protect what I build with my own hands. Maybe some kind of organization, a company, whatever. And for that, I need strength…"

"You can only be truly strong when you're protecting something precious. But, you know…" A glint of wisdom flashed in the old man's eyes. "Don't put that off. I've seen plenty of shinobi who put their lives on hold. They thought they weren't worthy yet of getting now what they'd supposedly have in the future… like they'd only start really living later. But it was only their minds that lived in dreams of the future, while their bodies suffered in reality."

"Maybe…"

I mulled over his words. And yeah, I really didn't have anyone close. Over all this time, only Hiruzen could even sort of be called that. And even then, with reservations—since I wasn't completely honest with him. But the future… right now, I really did need time before I could start living more fully—more carefree. It was hard… the threat would always be hanging over me. And it felt like only once I became much stronger would I be able to convince myself to focus on something else. For now, I changed the subject:

"I've heard a lot of tales about heroes who sacrificed themselves for their goal. And… I don't like that. Why didn't they save themselves first? They could've just started over."

"Oh… Naruto, we're not immortal. Sometimes what needs to be protected is so big that one lifetime isn't enough to rebuild it. Konoha… we live like one big family. We, shinobi, protect that family. But if Konoha falls, neither I nor anyone else will be able to restore it."

"Hm… when you say Konoha, you mean its people?"

"Correct. Hashirama united us, then passed his will to his brother Tobirama. He, in turn, passed his will to me. And I… to the Fourth, who's now gone. It was a tragedy that such a young Kage sacrificed himself. But we can see it wasn't for nothing. Konoha will keep standing, just like he wanted."

"That really does make sense… as long as the one doing the protecting is mortal. Hm‑m. So, to make any goal more meaningful, you need to become immortal. That way you'll always be with what you live for. I think I'll make immortality one of my side goals. As for my main one, I'll decide on that later."

Hiruzen's eyebrows twitched, and his eyes clouded over with memories.

"Naruto… There's something else I have to tell you: smashing straight toward your goal isn't always the right way. We don't live alone. Don't let yourself go blind… don't walk over the heads of those who once called you a comrade. Every life is precious, don't forget that."

…

Silence hung between us. I remembered the rumors that had recently raced through the hospital, about some Orochimaru becoming a missing‑nin. As I recalled, he'd been Hiruzen's student… And now I'd accidentally pressed on a sore spot. Orochimaru, if I remembered right, craved immortality, and he really had been willing to use any methods to get it. That was exactly what the Hokage had just warned me about. Hence the slightly abrupt change of subject.

Awkward.

"I assure you, I remember," I began slowly, picking my words. The phrase "every life is precious" honestly rubbed me the wrong way, but I didn't manage to put it nicely into words. "The value of another's life… it's a complicated thing. On the one hand, yeah, everyone's important. On the other, there are people who have to be killed. Because they threaten those who are dear. Did you kill Konoha's enemies, Lord Hokage?"

You'd think that if I stood up and took a stroll, you'd hear my steel balls clanking down the street. I mean, asking a Kage such a loaded question. But Hiruzen was the sort of person you could actually ask stuff like that. He really did value the people around him and treated them with understanding. Especially those close to him—and I was almost sure I was in that group on his side too.

At my question, Hiruzen was startled at first. Then a kind of sadness and weariness slipped into his posture. His eyes lowered and froze over his bowl of ramen.

"I… it was unavoidable. That's part of what it means to be a ninja—to do what's necessary to protect the village. Every death leaves a mark. On the soul. On the conscience. Even if it's an enemy's death. I have regrets…"

"You said not to live in the future. But I can see how the past still drags behind you. Even if it's deep inside… I don't get how you can regret those who wanted to cause harm. I think that when a person goes after someone else's life, in that moment they lose the value of their own. At least in the eyes of the person they're trying to kill. Our goal is to try to live in a way that there are as few such cases as possible. You can't always negotiate… but often you can."

"Hm," the old man grunted after a few seconds, then added thoughtfully, "those are very grown‑up words for someone so young."

"Maybe," I shrugged.

"How do you plan to avoid situations where you have to kill someone?" There was a flicker of interest in his eyes.

"The simplest way is to show you're willing to talk. Think about what compromises you can offer."

"Ahh… Naruto, that doesn't always work. A compromise is when both sides give something up. But some people… just don't want to give anything."

"Because they don't see an equal?"

"That's one possibility."

There—nice opening for my plan…

"Then you also need strength. At the very least, not much weaker. But ideally—overwhelmingly stronger!" I grinned and reached for my ramen again.

Hiruzen, meanwhile, fell into thought. It looked like he was finally starting to move on from the heavy topic I'd dumped on him… It was good that he was a pretty positive guy and could get his good mood back quickly. I approved of that, and I tried to be the same way myself.

"Power, even in good but unskilled hands, can cause harm."

"And speaking of that… we were talking about the way of the ninja. And I want to become one. Will you help me with that, Lord Hokage?"

"Oh…" He peered at me thoughtfully, then turned away again and straightened up. "To be honest, I wanted to give you more time for a childhood. But you've grown up so fast…"

"Hah, so I was basically supposed to become a ninja?"

"Um, you see… I can't tell you why yet, but most likely, yes."

"Going to put up an illusion barrier? Feels like this conversation is getting private."

"You know about genjutsu?"

Hiruzen formed a series of a couple dozen hand seals, and the air around us seemed to ripple for a moment.

"I put up a barrier that messes with what people see and blocks sound. It's ninjutsu. This way, no one can eavesdrop or read our lips. Have you been studying this topic in detail, Naruto?" His curiosity grew. Hiruzen was the shinobi they called "The Professor" because he knew all of Konoha's techniques. So, yeah, the subject of those techniques interested him.

"As much as I could. And not without some success." Two threads shot out from my fingers, hooked onto my chopsticks, and lifted them.

"W‑what?" He stared at me, wide‑eyed.

I tried to grab some noodles with the chopsticks, but the chakra thread trembled and jerked, and the wooden stick snapped against the bowl with a crack.

"Ahem… So yeah. I haven't actually learned all that much on my own. And I feel like I can do a lot more." I must've gotten nervous… Normally my control was way more precise.

"That is… impressive," Hiruzen shifted his gaze to the broken chopstick.

"So will you take me on and train me yourself?"

He thought again, this time for about ten seconds, then just shook his head no, a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Naruto. I don't have very much free time," he went on right away, not even giving me a chance to at least ask him for a reading list. "But that doesn't mean I won't deal with this! Of course I'll assign a few teachers to you. They'll pass on the basics, and then we'll see which directions interest you."

"…Thank you, Lord Hiruzen," I really was grateful. "That's very important to me."

"Oh, come on, Naruto. I'm your guardian, after all. How could I just leave you on your own?"

 

[Welydora]

And so began the path where I could more easily advance beyond the first steps of mastering chakra. Back then, Hiruzen had approved my request to make our conversation private. Then, for whatever reasons of his own, he asked me not to spread the word about my abilities. Later, as we were leaving, Hiruzen remembered the ramen shop owner, and we apologized to him. After all, we had been discussing some not‑so‑kind topics.

But, back to the subject of keeping my abilities secret. If I went around blabbing about them to everyone, the first thing that popped into my overly paranoid head was a certain Danzo, who might try to snatch me up after that. He was known for scooping up talented shinobi for his sketchy organization, Root. An organization that, as you might guess, dealt in shady business: sabotage, assassinations, inciting wars. Though, of course, that chain of events is pretty unlikely.

A more rational take is that Hiruzen believes talent attracts fame, and fame, in turn, provides opportunities... and a host of additional threats. Like Danzo, for instance. By sharing the news of my abilities with Hiruzen, I had seized the opportunities while managing to avoid those very threats, all thanks to his character.

On one hand, I was now under his watch. On the other, I was already there anyway. And I don't see much wrong with this patronage. It comes in many forms, after all. I was never destined to have a completely free childhood. "Freedom" is a fluid concept and probably only attainable with the complete cessation of being. Because as long as you're living, there will always be something that infringes upon your freedom. Maybe a more powerful enemy who's interested in studying your insides. Maybe just a mundane death from old age.

But that's philosophy. One positive fact about my existence under Hiruzen's patronage is that Sarutobi's students are all alive. Hiruzen even let a certain Orochimaru—one seriously nasty shinobi who conducted inhuman experiments on the residents of his own village—go. Even though their worldviews really, really clashed. From this, it follows that to avoid provoking my guardian, I just need to avoid messing with my fellow villagers. Whereas, based on our conversation, anything that's an "enemy" is fair game... What am I even thinking about? I'm not going to become a maniac... although some of my caretakers might have thought so a year or a year and a half ago. Or a vivisectionist? I never killed anyone in my past life... I think. And I wasn't in any kind of relationship with any corpses, either...

In short, being under Hiruzen's watch is far from a bad position. Considering no duties were mentioned, you could even say I've got it made. Exactly how "made" remains to be seen. After all, I wasn't handed a list of future perks. As for duties, well, you're supposed to be grateful for what you're given, in theory. But at the same time, you need to find a balance for that gratitude. If the duties turn out to be more than they're worth, I'll definitely try to weasel my way out of them. Thankfully, Konoha is an organization, and in any organization, not everyone actually works.

Right now, by the way, I was sitting on a cot in one of the hospital rooms.

They had recently taken a whole battery of tests: blood, hair, skin, they'd stuck some thin needle into my stomach and, for some reason, clipped off a tiny piece of my nail. Thankfully, my anal orifice remained untouched.

Some old geezer in a doctor's white coat was cheerfully tapping away at the keyboard of what looked to me like an ancient computer. Though for this place, the machine might actually be state-of-the-art.

Holy shit. Turns out the internet might actually exist here.

"You have extensive dendritic vessels of chakra expansion, Uzumaki-san," he said, spouting some clearly smart‑sounding crap.

"...What?"

"I'm saying, you have high potential for chakra reserve growth. Astonishingly high..." He suddenly started moving, his fingers flying across the keyboard and mouse. "M-hm, m-hm, congratulations. If you start developing right now according to the latest program, by the time you're twelve, your reserve will surpass that of Lord Third's! At the peak of his power! And even though you have Yang-dominant accretive channels of chakra flow... your Yin component is remarkably developed!"

"Uh-huh..."

"You must have done a lot of mental work," he nodded to himself and clicked the mouse again. "As for the other results, you're surprisingly healthy—not a single allergy, pathology, or anything of the sort. Your hair is resilient; you definitely won't go bald before you're thirty. Strong nails. Normal skin type."

"Uh-huh... Though it's weird that all these tests were lumped together."

"What do you mean? It's standard procedure," he said, turning away from the monitor to face me with a puzzled look.

I could only shrug in response. Well, I'm no medical expert, maybe that's how it's done. They can't just be yanking my chain, can they? So instead of empty complaints, I showed some curiosity. "About those dendritic vessels... they determine potential, right?"

"Correct, although the subject is still very poorly understood."

"So... we don't have ways to increase the number of vessels to, you know, increase potential?"

"Alas, alas, the level of sensitivity required is immense!" the old geezer exclaimed, shaking his head. "These are the creations of Lord Third and a huge scientific team. And even with our combined fuinjutsu capabilities, we were only able to get a tiny glimpse of them."

"Fuin?"

"The fuin research complex, under the control of fuinjutsu masters, with Lord Third in the central position!"

His statement threw me for a bit of a loop. Because:

"Isn't fuin just about sealing things?"

"No, no, not at all. That's generally correct, but not entirely... It's a whole complicated story with the terminology," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Fuin seals the creator's will so that... Well, you can read about it later."

To my disappointment, he quickly stopped answering questions and returned to his computer. Hmm.

"Now for the most interesting part!" he jumped up and slid the door to the side. "Come in."

And on his command, in walked shinobi who looked similar to the ones who accompanied Hiruzen in masks. ANBU—the Special Assassination and Tactical Squad, directly under the Hokage's command and not as shady as Root. They'd been waiting in the hallway for about ten minutes, by the way. It was kind of interesting to watch, as they were talking amongst themselves the whole time. Probably about work. Too bad I can't read lips. With this ability of my soul, I could be a great spy.

Then I noticed three chairs, which the newcomers sat down on. After that, I was asked to sit up, and they wheeled over some kind of metal cube on a pedestal covered in characters.

"Uzumaki-san, now listen carefully and follow my commands," the old geezer said in a serious tone, though he immediately undermined it by kicking his legs and rolling over on his chair.

The chair was a bit too big for him, so his feet didn't quite reach the floor… I know that feeling all too well.

"You mentioned that you are capable of chakra manipulation," he continued. "Your task is to concentrate images in your chakra as much as you possibly can. I will say a word, and you are to pour the very first thing that comes to mind into your energy! Don't try to find meaning in the words; they will be random. The main thing is to channel the first image that comes into your head as quickly as possible. Ready?"

"I guess..." I answered, placing my hands on the cube and peripherally noting the sharpened attention from the three shinobi.

"Green..."

In that same moment, with a pleasant, quiet hum, my chakra rushed through its channels. The current stopped inside the cube, quickly filling the unknown artifact. The humming disappeared; I held my energy within the object. An image flared in my mind. Clear, reflecting the ever-growing essence of the word that denotes color. I felt something inside me strain to change the chakra.

"Elephant."

My hands trembled involuntarily as other images tried to follow the one of the animal… but I managed to hold them back.

"Grass."

I focused more and more. Without my noticing, the world around me began to fade. My soul vision dimmed…

"Tower."

The word seemed to echo from somewhere farther away as my consciousness slipped into a trance.

"Carriage."

Even farther...

"Flooower."

Suddenly, my spherical vision expanded, and I felt a hand shaking my shoulder.

"What, flower? Oh... oops, sorry." Apparently, I had zoned out and gotten lost in my own head.

"It's quite alright," the not-yet-introduced older man said, moving away. "That's enough."

He took three clipboards with data from the shinobi. Where did they get those, I wonder? I hadn't noticed them in the room before.

"Thank you, you may go." As they were leaving, he started rapidly inputting data into the computer again. "And so... O-o-oh, uh-huh, uh-huh… I must congratulate you again, Uzumaki-san. I envy you… A diamond in the rough. The facts have all aligned. From the moment you were born, you were destined to be great..."

"Could you be more specific?" I asked, pulling him back from his poetic stream of thought.

"Yes… My parents were powerful ninja. I inherited a great talent for chakra reserve growth. But my talent for control was deficient… so much so that I couldn't become a shinobi…"

Seriously? I thought wearily. Is some random guy really about to tell me the sob story of his life? Oh, right… I'm in Naruto…

"The world is unfair," he continued. "Some get nothing, others get everything. Usually, everyone is born with an average talent for control. More rarely, with one like mine. Even rarer are true geniuses, like Lord Third. But cases where all talents converge at their highest point… We only know for certain of Lord First."

"More concisely, please," I requested, already a little glad that he was keeping his autobiography brief.

"You have the greatest talent for energy control! But it will only fully blossom in your old age. And I must say, on behalf of the scientific community, do not die! By fifteen, you could already replace Lord Third, but beyond that, you will only surpass him exponentially. I must also ask you—study fuinjutsu! It's an incredibly broad field. But in any of its branches, you can reach heights that others can't even fathom." Finishing his spiel, the scientist stared at me with immense expectation and some kind of hidden… reverence? Awe? It was strange to be on the receiving end of that.

"I'll... keep that in mind." Not dying… I'd like that. "And I'll try my best."

"Excellent! All the data has been collected. Later, a messenger will deliver your individual chakra source development program. Lord Third himself will create it!"

"Thank you for your work," I said, about to get off the cot and go about my business.

"Oh, don't mention it, they pay me for it," the old geezer said with a wave of his hand. "Perhaps you have any more questions, Uzumaki-san?"

I suddenly stopped, halfway to getting my feet on the floor, and climbed back up. This man seemed quite knowledgeable about chakra. So why not continue this little "interview," just not about him, but about a topic that interested me.

"Yes, going back to the dendritic vessels. Is there a similar marker for control potential?"

"We hope so," he said without hesitation, spreading his hands. "We would very much like to find one. Perhaps that discovery could elevate humanity. The ability to control energy is extremely important… But, alas, not everything is within our power."

I see. According to the scientist, this control, unlike chakra, develops throughout one's life. "But it will only fully blossom in your old age." For now, it seems they only have some cobbled-together formulas for roughly calculating something they don't fully understand. I'll need to dedicate time to this question in the future. For now, next question:

"What did you mean by an individual program?"

"A set of exercises with chakra. As for physical training," he said, looking me over, "it's not recommended without a course of special preparations and the supervision of an experienced mentor. One thing at a time—first, you need to get used to the methodical development of your chakra."

"So that means, for a while, I won't be developing my Yang component. That component progresses from physical training, right?"

"No, Yang, like Yin, can be developed through any chakra manipulation. By training the body, a shinobi undoubtedly increases the production, reserve, and slightly the quality of Yang. Every cell in the body produces and stores Yang. The chakra nexus penetrates every cell; it directly interacts with and is the center of energy. But this means that by manipulating chakra, we can work backward: develop the body through the use of chakra… though, generally, that develops Yin better than the body. Although the method isn't significantly worse than physical training if you use a single methodology."

"So, Yin can be developed by practicing chakra manipulation?"

"Not only, but it's one of the most effective ways. You can also do it through any kind of learning, meditation, and gaining experience in something. For example, you can hone one technique and try to add something to it. That will strengthen your Yin and, as a result, the chakra created with it."

"M-hm... you mentioned potentials for reserve and control. Based on that, are there perhaps some objective power rankings? Besides dividing shinobi into Genin—junior shinobi, Chunin—senior, and Jonin—elite."

"There are also Tokubetsu Jonin and their commanders—Senior Jonin. A Tokubetsu holds the rank of Jonin in only one area, while regular Jonin have at least two specialties. As for Senior Jonin, we have almost none… They are appointed by the Hokage for exceptional mastery in their field and the ability to teach it. But all these ranks can be considered relative. It happens that a Genin will defeat a Tokubetsu in a fight—and there's nothing surprising about that."

"How so?"

"There are a ninja's main stats: Bloodline Strength—you could call it potential—mastery of weapons, Ninjutsu, Genjutsu, and Taijutsu—using the body for combat. That's speaking generally, without details. But there are also other characteristics: speed, energy, strength, intelligence. Many pass the Chunin exams thanks to the last one. Good teamwork is one of the two qualities a Chunin must possess. The other is the ability to prepare for and adapt to an opponent. But that doesn't mean a Chunin has to be strong on their own. Everyone has weaknesses—a Chunin must exploit them."

"Based on my tests, could you give me a breakdown?"

"Of course, I essentially did that before. Just in much greater detail. But to summarize, among the main stats, you only have Bloodline Strength—your genome is maxed out. Though that's relative. Some, like the Uchiha for example, also have this stat at maximum. But your talents are incomparable. I've also symbolically put a few points into the Ninjutsu line. Of course, your control is higher than almost any Genin's. But you don't know any techniques. Of the other characteristics: speed is that of a normal person, since you can't enhance your body with chakra; strength is at the same level. But due to the properties of your chakra, your stamina is much higher than it should be for an untrained person. Intelligence, considering your age, is presumably over two hundred IQ points. And you have as much energy as a dozen Jonin."

"As much as a dozen Jonin?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes. That is the 'injustice' of the world!" the old geezer feigned outrage this time. "All shinobi, one way or another, have a limit to which they can develop. Until that limit is reached, they can multiply their chakra reserves. And in a relatively short time. Once the limit is reached, of course, a shinobi can continue to develop. But nowhere near as quickly."

"So, in a way, everyone is equal after all? And, let's say, in terms of reserves, it's quite possible to catch up to me?"

"No, it's not. You were born with a reserve that almost all shinobi will never develop. It's very good if a shinobi reaches the reserve of a Jonin by twenty. But even that is rare."

Well, cool. Good thing I stayed in this body. It's an awesome vessel. Not only are my connections damn impressive, but my potential turned out to be even higher, it seems.

"That's an understatement, Uzumaki-san. But for now, it doesn't reflect much of your actual abilities. With this ranking system, you can become a shinobi with just brains and a bit of talent. Even a Senior Jonin, in fact. Though you'd have to get lucky with the brains. And the position would be military, yes, but definitely not a field one."

"Thank you for your explanations… Hospital-Worker-san," I said with a nod of gratitude, finally hopping off the cot.

"Oh, don't mention it, Uzumaki-san. This stuff is all in the basic literature anyway. And I enjoyed slacking off. Stop by anytime. I'm always here."

"Uh... Okay."

I walked out into the corridor and trudged off toward my section of the hospital.

They sure gave me a lot to chew on. A thought is even creeping in—did I do the right thing with all this?.. I could have spent years in my usual rhythm, without overexerting myself. But now, with some kind of training system, I'll have to work. Heh.

On the other hand, if you don't leave your comfort zone, life can eat you up. In my case, literally. So… we grab our something-or-other, and forward we go, with a song!


A/N

The characters in this story—even the ones in lab coats—can be wrong. How much, and in which direction, is a secret.)

And thank you for reading this starting block of chapters!
If you liked the beginning, the best way to support me and help the story get noticed is with a like and a comment. They help it rise in the rankings and find new readers.

 

[Despacitoleo]

Yay we got nerd besto friends and befuddled the hokage

 

[Welydora]

A week later, sitting in my hospital room, I was studying my hundred‑and‑somethingth scroll. I lost count after the forty‑third.

A multifaceted, deep dive into chakra theory. What chakra is in the locals' understanding, how they use it, how new techniques were created. My twenty‑first‑century brain, which had long since forgotten what it means to be starved for information, pounced on all that like a starving beast.

Some scrolls were huge, really wide. Big enough that you could probably mummify a dozen bodies my size in their paper. But that didn't stop me from reading them.

There was, without a doubt, a ton of information. But after finishing, I realized I actually hadn't learned all that much. The scholarly works were packed with minutiae, patterns that weren't always useful (at least for now), and sometimes a fair bit of fluff. Still, that didn't change the fact that I was very pleased—both with myself and overall—with how much I'd managed to learn.

Telling Hiruzen about my abilities had definitely been the right move. He really does seem like a world‑class grandpa.

He'd said that if anything important came up, I could drop by.

Running out of scrolls—that's important, right? Right. Besides, my development is kind of a secret. So I should probably report to him in person.

Still, before I crawl out from under this last scroll and go beg for more, I might as well sum up what I've managed to learn.

The first thing was about chakra development and was one of the most important facts: I'd been completely wrong to baby my Chakra Pathway System (CPS). It turned out to be tough as all hell. From birth. Actually, even earlier. That durability applies in particular to my "Uzumaki" CPS. It could, right after birth, withstand the fox's chakra, even if only in small doses, or so I figure.

From that it follows that all my previous "don't overload it" precautions about my CPS were mistaken. And, as several studies pointed out, even harmful. Because to develop the CPS, you're supposed to hit it with all‑around abuse as hard as you can; that's one of the most, if not the most, effective ways to stimulate it to grow. By babying my CPS, I was just developing way slower than I could have.

But whatever. Again, good thing I found out early. Otherwise I could've been stuck developing much more slowly.

Of course, there are nuances to "abusing" the CPS. The problem is that after heavy loads it builds up damage just like muscles do, and it needs some rest and resources to recover.

In a chakra system as developed as mine, more than ninety percent of the system's resource is self‑produced. The locals don't know exactly why, but people with dozens of times more Yang don't eat dozens of times more food; the energy just somehow appears in their bodies. They do eat a lot—yeah—but not proportionally more. So where does the energy come from? From faith in a brighter future, probably. Jokes aside, local researchers lean toward: first, that the energy itself (yin and yang) partially produces more of itself without taking anything in return; and second, that it also absorbs energy from the outside world.

As for recovery, my chakra system bounces back in no time—many times faster than that of other shinobi. They didn't tell me why, but I'm almost sure it's thanks to the bijuu's energy, which it "voluntarily" shares. Because of that recovery rate, the standard formula‑manual—what intensity to use, on which sections, and in which poses to huff and puff over your CPS—didn't really fit me. It had to be recalculated by hand, based on my recovery and growth graphs. That's what Hiruzen was busy with, because, in his words, he knows his stuff in that department.

On the practical side, there was nothing pervy in the CPS training method itself. The chakra user just sat or lay down—basically got into a comfortable position (you can even stand on your head if that's your thing)—and then used a technique: Pulsation Method: Wave Strike. The essence of the jutsu is elementary, but moderately hard to execute—the user generates a big amount of chakra, compresses it as much as they can, and sends it as a pulse/wave through specific points. Then they repeat it as fast as they can. Over and over, making the process rhythmic.

That's more effective than just running a continuous, even powerful, stream of energy, because it creates a higher load. The method is also considered relatively safe, since users usually don't have the control to launch a wave strong enough to cause real injury. And, as you'd expect, as the user's reserves grow, their experience and overall control of the technique slowly grow too, so they eventually become able to inflict micro‑damage even on their already‑toughened CPS. Because of that, this technique usually stays effective right up until the user's death.

Because of that last fact, not many shinobi bothered to think up new development methods. It felt like everything had already been invented. Still, there were always tinkerers. Some of them, by showing by example how not to do things, let other people write better safety procedures. How else, if one "genius" literally burned himself from the inside out when he decided that turning all the chakra in his pathways into fire was a brilliant idea?

But back to the actual point. At my request, after a bit of thought, Hiruzen even tweaked my training regimen.

Originally, for all shinobi except those belonging to a certain Hyuga clan, it's considered enough to develop the CPS in just a few spots: the palms, so that the energy that goes through them when you form hand seals passes more easily; the legs, to better accelerate your movements; and sometimes the lungs and throat, if the shinobi uses techniques like the Fireball, where you need to stockpile chakra in the lungs and then exhale it.

But now I'm developing my entire chakra system evenly. Which means that later, in theory, I'll be able to perform Hyuga clan techniques like Kaiten. That's where a shinobi evenly releases chakra from all their tenketsu and spins it around themselves into a very tough hemisphere. Or, say, shoot the same Fireball out of my ass. There's just enough room there to pack chakra and then blast it out in one go.

This only slightly slows CPS development, and honestly, I'm not in any particular rush right now. I'll hit the limit of how developed my chakra system can get in just a few years anyway, and after that I'll have to move at a snail's pace.

That limit… doesn't make me happy. The fact that it's very far off—sure. But the fact it exists at all—not so much. Something inside me kept whispering that if I don't find a way to at least push that ceiling further back, I'll end up feeding the God Tree. Maybe not the one Kaguya might grow if things line up that way. Maybe I'll just become a tasty piece of fruit in the hands of some passing Otsutsuki.

I don't like either option.

But that just makes me more motivated to keep moving forward.

Putting it even shorter: a big chunk of the theory was about hand seals. Those little signs you make with your hands. And that section was tightly tied to something called "affinity." Better to start with the second one.

Affinity is basically an accumulated array of chakra properties. It's split up between the components to some degree, but no one uses pure Yin and pure Yang completely separately, except maybe the Sage of Six Paths, if you believe the locals' guesses. So you can treat affinity as belonging to all your chakra.

You could say chakra has a kind of "memory." When a ninja uses, say, a Fireball, the already‑existing chakra, like one big template, gets supplemented by the properties the ninja manually gives it to transform the energy into elemental form; properties for controlling shape, and so on. With practice and time, the chakra remembers which properties it took on (for creating the Fireball, for example), and the template expands. That way, the shinobi doesn't have to impart all the necessary properties to the energy from scratch, because they're already there to some degree. Or rather, they still do, but their starting point is further along than before, so they need to put in less effort. That doesn't mean the chakra will keep getting more and more "fiery" over time—though a harmless imprint might stay. You could also call affinity the "sleeping" properties of energy, since they don't affect the world as much as they can once they're "awakened."

On top of that, with effort and practice, shaping a technique starts costing less effort for the brain too. It's like training your subconscious to handle repetitive tasks, so your mind doesn't really strain itself to do routine stuff. The subconscious works together with that "chakra memory," which makes the effect even stronger.

It's important to mention that affinity isn't just something you grind up on your own. That takes a long time and a lot of effort. No, affinity also gets passed down by inheritance. To be born with a "high" affinity, your parents need to have high affinity too—that's the first factor. And the chakra of the baby has to pick up those properties strongly enough—that's the second, and it happens differently for everyone.

You can get really lucky, and almost any technique your parents know will come to you almost right away. Or you can get really unlucky, end up with barely any affinity, and have to bust your ass just to learn even basic techniques.

The trend in this world is that affinity does grow with each generation. Not fast, but still. Because of that, every generation is stronger than the last—their starting point is just further along.

In my case, I can't say I hit the jackpot with affinity, but I didn't get screwed over either. The part of my affinity that's responsible for wind is actually pretty damn good. Overall I'm noticeably above average, but there are people who can beat me in those stats.

There can be a bunch of reasons why a shinobi's affinity doesn't get passed on well. In my case, maybe it's the influence of the fox's chakra. I can easily imagine that, in order to fight off the aggressive properties of that foreign energy, my CPS just didn't have enough spare resources left to inherit better affinities. Though that's relative, of course. Instead of stronger elemental affinities, for example, I got high resistance and regeneration. Or maybe the bijuu's chakra didn't interfere at all, and it's just how my internal mutations lined up: the gene lottery isn't exactly something you control.

Anyway, back to where I started.

Hand seals. They're directly tied to affinity. Chakra can remember any properties you give it. The property of accepting other properties through hand gestures is deeply imprinted in the energy of pretty much every shinobi. It's an ancient art that, I figure, started out as self‑suggestion to make manipulating energy easier—"repeat a certain chakra manipulation together with a specific gesture so that later your subconscious itself will give the chakra the right properties whenever that gesture is made." And it works very well, which is why it's insanely popular.

There are twelve basic hand seals, named after animals. By forming them, a shinobi can feel their chakra start to move and take on properties on its own. Even properties the ninja might not consciously know about. But those properties are already in their affinity and get awakened by the hand seals.

Overall, this makes using chakra a lot easier. But there's a downside—it takes time to form seals. If two equally experienced shinobi meet, one a ninjutsu specialist and the other a taijutsu specialist, then even at medium distance the taijutsu master will usually have enough time to close in and kill the ninjutsu master.

I memorized all the hand seals. Obviously, I rewarded myself with a pastry for that. And now I've started forming and holding them. First, to be able to form them faster later. Second, to feel what properties each seal gives, so I can later strengthen those same properties in my chakra myself, and so that, over time and constant reinforcement, they get imprinted deeper into my affinity. In the end, that's supposed to boost the power of my techniques, both with hand seals and without. Along with the basic ones, they also gave me a few specific hand seals, even some one‑handed ones. I started drilling those too, of course.

These hand gestures make life much easier. But they can also complicate it. A shinobi who's trained with hand seals and roughly knows what result they want can create a technique just by picking the right gestures. But it works the other way too: if a shinobi with a well‑trained affinity for hand seals forms them in a random order, something unpredictable can happen.

After that deep theory, I finally moved on to something more superficial. The basic shinobi techniques, i.e., E‑rank. In theory, every graduate of the Ninja Academy is supposed to know them. There are six ranks total, from E to S. Roughly: E is for students, D for genin, C for chunin, B for jonin, A for jonin and Kage, and S‑rank techniques can be pulled off only by a tiny handful of shinobi.

Each rank of technique is harder to perform than the one below it. But that doesn't mean, say, that a genin can't perform a C‑rank technique. On average, if they train hard enough, they can. If a genin is really talented, they might manage B‑rank, or even something A‑rank.

Back to E‑rank techniques. They differ from village to village, but in the Leaf they're:

Transformation Technique—when a ninja changes their own properties, turning into another person, an animal, or even an inanimate object, adopting all the relevant properties in the process. That's with perfect execution of the technique, which almost no one reaches. According to the scrolls, for graduation it's enough for students just to take on the appearance of another person. But the jutsu has huge potential. Changing the properties of your own body, even temporarily. That's mind‑blowing.

Another promising technique is the Illusionary Clone Technique. Using chakra, a shinobi creates several non‑corporeal copies that can move and distract the enemy. The variation where you create a clone of yourself is what's classified as E‑rank. The ninja's chakra kind of "remembers" what their body is supposed to look like originally and always strives to return to that form. In this technique, that helps you spend less effort than, say, on creating an illusory copy of some other object, which is why this ninjutsu is placed in the lowest rank.

The third technique, similar to the second, is the Cloak of Invisibility. You apply it over fabric, which is harder than creating clones. But it's static and doesn't let you move, which, on the other hand, simplifies the technique. The shinobi basically uses an external illusion on the fabric to blend into the surroundings. I saw a mention of an improved version of this technique, where the shinobi makes themselves invisible and can move. That upgrade was invented by some Jiraiya, and, based on my knowledge of canon, I have my doubts it was meant for espionage or any other noble, righteous shinobi business.

The fourth technique is probably the coolest one in my opinion. Substitution. A space‑time jutsu where a shinobi turns into energy and instantly swaps places with a nearby object. Sounds awesome as hell! But in reality, like any jutsu, it takes some time to execute. For example, in close combat, two more‑or‑less equal opponents won't be able to use it unless one of them catches the other off guard and somehow buys some time. And even then, it's not always the best play. Because if you've got spare time in close combat, it's usually better to shove a kunai into the enemy's neck than to run away.

The fifth is basically not even a technique, but a manual on how to escape from bonds. Ropes, for example. How to dislocate your joints and then pop them back in. How to focus chakra in your limbs, with which properties, to temporarily make your bones more flexible. How to concentrate properly so you can then release a surge of chakra and try to stretch the bindings. If you're really good at Substitution and can use it without hand seals, you don't really need this last one. But in general—it's a useful little book.

Finally, I put aside the theoretical study of the greatest technique of all, the one that lets you completely destroy your opponent. Physically and morally. Its name—A Thousand Years of Death!

The shinobi puts their hands together, extending the index and middle fingers. Then they concentrate chakra into them. Then, with a sharp thrust, they ram them into the enemy's anal cavity and, with that same impulse, release the chakra.

A very cruel technique. It shows how a chakra burst can multiply the damage from a simple strike. To truly master it, you need pretty fine control. But even with crap control, the technique is very effective. If you use it on a shinobi who doesn't know how to reinforce their body, their asshole will literally get torn apart.

All in all, a very useful technique. Or rather, a very useful scroll. Because it also has recommendations for future genin on what books to read to better learn how to reinforce the body. I read that too, by the way—they threw it in as a bonus. In short, a regular shinobi just concentrates chakra in their body. That's it. That's the Body Reinforcement Technique, which also toughens you up in the process. But the technique can be improved over time if the ninja runs chakra through their body, as if feeling out and memorizing the structure of their flesh.

With greater mastery, during reinforcement a shinobi subconsciously creates temporary "energy" muscles, bones, and everything else. Almost no one gets to that level. Only if they've got good affinity and got lucky with their potential for control. That energy flesh is usually invisible, but as you'd expect, it boosts physical stats like strength, durability, and agility even more than just flooding your body with chakra.

Though it won't help much against A Thousand Years of Death. A shinobi it's used on will feel nothing but pain, despair, sorrow, and disappointment in life. Or, if they're lucky—they'll just die quickly.

So yeah. I read a lot, but it still feels like not that much.

With that, I got up from my scroll and headed outside. No one had actually been restricting me before. I could have gone out whenever I wanted. I just hadn't really wanted to. Mostly because of paranoia and prejudice.

Once outside, I wandered toward a tall building with a red circle on the roof and the kanji for "Fire" inside. The Hokage Residence is visible from almost anywhere in Konoha. You just have to climb a bit higher and the distinctive building is easy to spot.

Walking the streets on my own, I, to my surprise, didn't draw much attention. Lots of people just walked by without paying any mind to some random little kid. That… was different from what I'd read in fanfics… Ah, those unreliable sources.

At a leisurely pace I covered about five hundred meters in maybe four minutes. Small legs are evil. But the important thing is that only now did I run into the reaction I'd been expecting… Well, kind of. Some little brat out for a walk with his grandma, by the look of it, shamelessly pointed at me and asked her what those whiskers on my face were. The old lady, without even throwing a tomato at me, just clicked her tongue at her grandson and hauled him away.

I watched them go and thought, what the hell? I was supposed to get pelted with half the produce from the local market and at the very least be called a demon. Where's all that?

Snorting, I kept going. And another ten minutes later I reached the Residence. A complex of three round buildings painted red. The one in front was bigger, with an extra floor—so three total—and an open roof. The roofs were covered in crooked pipes installed by who‑the‑hell‑knows. One thing was clear: whoever did that job was a complete hack.

Not bothering to be shy, I walked through the main gates like I owned the place and swaggered over to some guy at the reception desk.

"Hello, esteemed sir," I said from a few steps back so he could see me over the counter. "Is the Hokage‑sama in?"

"Um, hello, Uzumaki‑san. Yes, he is."

Oh, he knows me? Ah, right, the whiskers… I guess anyone can recognize me now.

The man called over some kid with a Leaf forehead protector but no chunin vest. A genin, probably, working here as the local "fetch‑this, go‑there, now‑get‑out‑of‑the‑way." He led me upstairs to the office of the biggest boss around—that is, the Hokage.

"…," I muttered, eyeing the door handle that was pretty high up. "Could you open the door, please…?"

I decided not to humiliate myself by jumping like… some kid who can't reach the handle.

After thanking the genin for the help, I went into the office. Wide, bright, thanks to the large panoramic windows. The view of all of Konoha was mesmerizing. Inside, along the walls, were lots of cabinets, a huge open space in the middle, and at the far end a solid-looking desk with a familiar old man sitting behind it.

"Hello, Hokage‑sama. You've got a nice setup here," I commented without thinking, looking up at the high ceiling. For some reason, in my head a heating bill counter immediately started spinning upward.

"Hello, Naruto," he said, looking up from some paper and greeting me just as formally. "Did something happen?"

"Yes…" A note of sadness slipped into my voice. I made my eyes as big as I could and, wearing my best pleading face, walked closer to the desk. "The scrolls ran out. Please, sir, may I have some more…"

"Eh… hmm…" He scratched his goatee.

Ah… Judging by Hiruzen's face, my little act didn't work. A shame the Hokage isn't a forty‑year‑old woman. Then I could use this look constantly and wheedle out even more than I'm already getting.

"So fast. That's commendable, commendable," he nodded. "Of course, I'll give you more scrolls. I promised, after all. But for now, I have a better proposal."

"Oh?" I perked up.

"How about we hone your knowledge in practice?"

"O‑o‑o‑oh…" That would be awesome.

"Excellent." The old man nodded again and shouted, "Weasel!"

In my spherical field of vision I caught a blur as, from the hallway, a shinobi in a painted porcelain mask—a weasel, apparently—burst in at such speed he almost knocked the door off its hinges. My body only felt a gust of wind before the shinobi was already beside me.

"Impressive," slipped out of me, and I turned around to look over the newcomer, then the door. "That's some seriously sturdy hardware."

I turned back and saw Hiruzen staring thoughtfully in the same direction.

"You know… it really is sturdy. Anyway, to business." He glanced at the ANBU. "Shisui should be off‑duty right now. Escort Uzumaki‑san to the reserve station and tell Uchiha he's to go with him to Training Ground Seventeen. As an instructor."

"Hai, Hokage‑sama!"

He yelled the local military "Yes, sir," then turned to me, clearly meaning it was time to go.

After thanking Hiruzen, I left with yet another escort. We walked a bit through Konoha and found another round building, smaller this time. On its roof, like on the Residence, there was a circle, only with the first kanji of the word "jonin." This village had all sorts of different organizations. The one whose building we entered was called the "Jonin Reserve Station." Jonin could hang out here when they were, say, waiting for an order from the Hokage, or just if they felt like sitting around.

Soon we entered a huge round room, with lots of couches lined up along the walls and a column with plants around it in the center. Or rather, judging by the marks on the floor, that's how the furniture had been arranged recently. Right now, a few ninja had pushed the couches aside, dragged over a table, and were playing cards.

When Weasel and I walked in, everyone stared at us—or rather, at me.

A chill ran down my spine. Suddenly I felt really awkward.

Luckily, my escort didn't waste any time and went over to a black‑haired kid of about nine. He explained what the Hokage had told him. Hm… This guy. Shisui. I'd definitely heard that name before…

"Hey," he walked up to me, scratching the back of his head. "We heading to the training ground, yeah?"

By then the ANBU who'd brought me had already left.

I nodded. I shouldn't have.

Because this… let's just call him a bastard, casually scooped me up into his arms. And before I could even object, he took three steps, opened a window, and my body got plastered to his chest as the guy shot off at insane speed.

---

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[Despacitoleo]

Because this… let's just call him a bastard, casually scooped me up into his arms. And before I could even object, he took three steps, opened a window, and my body got plastered to his chest as the guy shot off at insane speed.

Click to shrink...

he got the potato sack treatments

 

[Lillie Jones]

Thanks for the chapter
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[Welydora]

The wind slammed into my ears, stuffing them shut. I could barely keep my eyes open, just enough to see the world nearby smeared into almost a blur. Buildings flashed by—tall, then low—nonstop, like my heartbeat that had shot up into triple digits, right under us and off to the sides.

"Shisui of the Body Flicker! You fucker!!! Stop!!!"

I yelled, remembering this… shinobi. But he couldn't hear me over the wind.

This guy was one of the strongest ninja in this world in terms of potential. He'd awakened special eyes—the Mangekyo Sharingan, his clan's kekkei genkai. They let him throw people into insanely powerful illusions or brainwash them. More important right now, though, was that he was also a master of the D‑rank Body Flicker, which is how he got his nickname in the first place. A high‑speed movement technique—and exactly what this bastard was using right now.

"Hm? I think I heard something?" he said once we arrived. He set my heavy, wheezing ass down on the ground and started looking around.

"You… you bitch," I managed between breaths. "Haa… What did I ever do to you…"

Bent over with my hands on my knees, I tried to catch my breath. I'd burned through all my air screaming and cursing him out while we were moving.

"Ah…" He was taken aback, but quickly asked with this kind of smile like he was talking to a kid. "Little boy, who taught you that word?"

"Little boy?..." I almost choked, then snapped upright. "I'm a grown, respectable man. You've got no right… you little runt, to call me that…"

The last bit slipped out with some doubt. Looking more closely, I noted Shisui was about one and a half times my size.

"Hmm…" He eyed me skeptically. He'd probably noticed that too, but decided not to say it out loud. "Alright, let's skip the whole 'how you were raised' thing."

My face twitched.

"Though it is kind of funny… Hey now, don't look at me like that. Anyway, we know each other's names, so we can get down to business. I'll be your instructor for the next few hours. So tell me what you know, and we'll go from there."

I kept drilling him with a stare for another couple of seconds, then just sighed. Yeah… Usually nobody talked to me like I was a kid. The hospital staff used to, but that stopped over time. And this guy… Whatever. Dumb reason to be pissed. Fact is, I'm small.

Once I'd fully calmed down, I briefly listed what I knew. Then said I could already do a few things and that my basic control was relatively decent. After that, I told him I wanted to practice as much as possible.

Shisui nodded and said I could start with whatever I wanted. If needed, he'd correct me or back me up. I wasn't sure that's how instructors were supposed to act. Just going, "Do whatever you want." Still, you don't look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Excellent…" I summed up our little exchange and only then looked around. Big field, maybe four soccer fields put together. Forest beyond its edge.

Slowly, exactly like in the manual, I clenched my hands into fists, then extended my index and middle fingers. No, not to form some Ultimate Technique. Instead, I slid my right hand onto my left, forming a chakra‑saving concentration seal. The world around me dimmed a bit, my focus shifting more and more to the flow of energy inside my body. Yin and Yang merged with a soundless chain‑clank, forming the amount of chakra I needed. Then it filled with the properties to change my appearance. I was using the Transformation Technique.

I opened my eyes. I hadn't even noticed I'd closed them.

My viewpoint was higher now.

I looked at Shisui, who was inspecting me.

"Well?"

"Impressive, for your first time using the technique. You got me pretty detailed…" He kept studying what was essentially his own copy—me, at the moment. The Transformation had worked. "Though the lines on the bandages are a bit off; and here and here"—Shisui poked me in the chest—"these folds in the clothes look unnatural. Also, you should've made the technique denser—the shadow's lighter than it should be. And straighten up a bit, my posture's better."

Forming that hand seal again, I drew a bit more chakra and fixed the flaws he'd pointed out.

"Yeah, that's much better!" He clapped lightly. I hadn't really paid attention before, but he's a pretty upbeat guy.

"Thanks…" I said—both for the praise and the tips. With a pop, white smoke burst out of me, dispelling the technique. I could've dropped it without the smoke, but I wanted to test that aspect of chakra too. Making smoke with this energy is really easy.

After that I created an illusionary clone, also on the first try and at a decent level. For a moment I felt some kind of link between us. And sure enough, the clone seemed almost sentient and moved on its own. But through that link, it felt like it could read my intent and follow commands. In general, you can control chakra from a distance, as I'd read. Chakra maintains a connection with its creator until it burns itself out. Creating an illusionary clone, I felt that much more clearly. Though you can cut the link, by the way.

Then I brought up the topic of boosting my body. That one really interested me. Getting superhuman physical strength—now that sounded promising. So, under the Uchiha's supervision, I started practicing flooding my body with large amounts of chakra. But I quickly lost concentration when I noticed the Sharingan in his eyes.

A glowing red iris with three tomoe.

"Hm?" He clearly didn't get why blue chakra suddenly surged out of me in all directions with a faint hum. Up to then I'd been more or less controlling it fine.

"Uh, sorry, spaced out," I said, and went back to pumping chakra into my body. This time without a seal. Harder, but doable.

Sharingan, yeah. The thought that this guy had a brainwashing Mangekyo had already crossed my mind. Only now that I'd calmed down enough was it really starting to bother me. That whole run‑flight here had been a little too memorable.

More and more chakra gathered in my body. Before, hidden in its two components, only now did it become something bigger, and, it seemed to me vaguely, closer to reality. Or… no, it was like by creating chakra in the body I was just… pulling energy into reality? The scrolls described it, but feeling it yourself is way better, deeper. Weird, hard‑to‑describe images.

Power filled my body, sending phantom goosebumps racing across my skin. I wanted to move.

"Catch me if anything?" I asked Shisui, figuring my reaction speed might not boost as much as the rest of my body. It should've gone up too, of course. But that doesn't mean I couldn't still accidentally crash into a tree.

"Go on, I'm ready." He showed me an upraised finger and an encouraging smile. For a moment, I thought there was something weird in that second gesture, but decided to ignore it.

I turned, leaned forward. Then, with that tense, humming feeling of chakra, I pushed off with all my strength, forward and up.

Instantly the wind stuffed my ears again, the ground dropped far away under my feet, and the clearing below quickly gave way to trees.

"Fuck me!" I started flailing my limbs, but you can't change your trajectory midair. Meanwhile, the treetops, probably sharp, were getting closer and closer!

My brain, working flat‑out, ordered my chakra to reinforce my body. Then I slammed stomach‑first into some thick branch—a loud crack—and kept flying; I spun, another crack, this time under my back; another second of flight, and I smashed sideways into the thick trunk of yet another tree, finally dropping to the ground with a dull thud.

I just lay there for about five seconds, staring at the grass next to my face. Then, after blinking a few times, I jerked upright. Nothing hurt… Holy shit, I'm intact!

I started looking myself over. Well, almost. My little black jumpsuit was clearly going in the trash. Now it was just a rag, torn in several places and with an unplanned dirt camouflage.

The chakra I was supposed to be holding so I could keep using it for a long time slipped out of my control when I got distracted standing up and just scattered into the world.

Then my spherical vision caught a mug that hadn't been there before, and I whipped around toward it.

"You were supposed to catch me!"

"There was no point." Leaning against a nearby tree, Shisui shrugged. "You used a lot of chakra for your reinforcement. It's amazing you managed to release that much, let alone hold it. But my Sharingan could clearly see it was enough to protect you from the landing."

"So that means… you could also see how far I'd fly? Given how hard I kicked off?"

"Yeah." He nodded kindly.

…What a troll. So high‑level he might not even realize what class he belongs to.

"Alright. Since we're in a forest, I'd like to try walking on trees. You mind?"

He flicked his hand at me again, another clear "do whatever you want." So I went and did whatever I wanted.

I walked up to a tree, formed that same efficient concentration seal, pushed a bit less chakra into my body for reinforcement this time, and focused part of it in my soles.

"By the way, during that jump you unconsciously used the Shunshin. Though at a pretty meh level."

The Uchiha noted that, but I waved him off. He was distracting me…

Still, I couldn't focus right away. Thoughts about Shisui's Mangekyo crawled back in. I started wondering if that brainwashing worked on the entire mind. In my case, would that include the soul too? The more I thought about it, the more uneasy—no, creepy—it felt. Because if yes, then this guy could actually kill me as a person. End, basically, my life for real.

I put my foot on the vertical surface of the tree. Then focused on the desire to stick… and my leg immediately flew off it with a crack. Too much chakra.

The next try went better. Focusing the right intent with a more reasonable amount of chakra, I could feel the energy, under my will, seep a little into the wood and then literally pull my leg toward it.

Carefully, I lifted my other foot off the ground and, with slight effort, ended up standing horizontally. Put my second foot down. Then added a bit more chakra into my body. Standing got easier. I lifted my first foot, the chakra still obeying my will. Put it higher. Repeated with the second. Another step. Another, another…

Soon, hanging upside down from a thick branch, I turned toward Shisui.

"Yeah…" He scratched the back of his head again. "I used to suppress thoughts of pride. I knew I was really talented. But now I'm not so sure about my own qualities, ha‑ha."

I cut off the "stick to surfaces" property of my chakra and tried to drop onto my feet… but only managed to flip in the air and smack my ass on the ground.

"Ow…" I rubbed the sore spot. Should've reinforced my body a bit more.

"But I successfully resisted that dark feeling," he went on, making his face more serious. As serious as a nine‑year‑old kid could manage. "Don't you get arrogant either, Naruto. That probably won't lead to anything good."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," I waved him off again. "Besides, how are you supposed to get full of yourself when you're getting your ass kicked this much? Even if it's by nature and not people."

"Hm, fair point. And also," he looked me in the eye with those red peepers of his, and I glanced away, "why are you afraid of me?"

Huh? He noticed? I guess my skill at hiding emotions with facial expressions isn't exactly top tier. So it's not surprising… Fine. As the scrolls—and my own memory—said: it's pointless to lie to shinobi, especially the experienced ones. They'll spot it easily. So you have to tell the truth—just the kind that leaves no room for follow‑up questions.

"Because you're an Uchiha. The power your eyes have over me is scary. It makes me feel helpless."

"…So blunt." After my little speech, he even straightened up a bit. Looks like I really hit him. More than I meant to.

"Yep. Happy with the answer?" I added, not quite as confident.

"Yes… or rather, no. Sorry, I didn't think about that." His eyes dimmed, turning black again. "If you're okay… shall we continue?"

"I'm fine."

I answered and turned away. Hm. Emotions hit me harder than I thought—that's why I snapped… After all those same‑old‑same‑old days, I'd gotten out of practice with some of them. But time to focus. I at least need to test every technique I've learned. Then drill them more.

But first—body reinforcement.

I pumped more chakra inside. So much it was hard to hold. At the same time, that inner rush came back.

I walked up to a thick tree, about a meter and a half across. Punched—and with a loud crack, my fist went in up to the wrist.

I formed the concentration seal. The feeling of power grew.

Bracing my foot into the ground, I spun and kicked. Bark flew apart in splinters. The wood crumpled like paper, letting my leg sink in about twenty centimeters. Power wrapped around me. It was intoxicating. The tree creaked dangerously, but held.

I drew my leg back. Focused more chakra into it. More. And more. As much as I could. A full minute of just concentrating. Then a wind‑up, and exactly at the moment of impact I blasted the energy out like an explosion. A flash of tension shot through my limb, followed immediately by a deafening boom. Half the trunk blew apart into chunks under the moving chakra. Then, with a loud crack, the tree leaned over and crashed down under its own weight.

The power spread through my veins like warm magma. It gave me confidence. The feeling that there was nothing that wouldn't break in front of me. For the next ten seconds I just watched the results of my handiwork. The tree was done for. The leaves and branches of neighboring trees were shredded by flying splinters. My body was completely intact. Only my leg ached a little. Satisfaction.

"What a nice feeling. Before, I couldn't really believe so many shinobi could do this," I said.

"Actually, almost nobody can do it like that," came a voice behind me, and I turned. "Or rather, plenty of people can, but only with ninjutsu. This kind of body reinforcement either takes crazy fine control—which is rare—or a ton of chakra, which is also rare. My control is really good, but I still can't do that."

"Uh, really?"

"No, I mean, I could," Shisui fumbled with his hands awkwardly. "But I'd need a lot of time to polish that move. It's not efficient. I specialize in other stuff."

"Right… Shunshin. You gonna teach me?"

"Let's leave that for another time. You need to polish your basics."

He was right. I was almost sure I'd burned an order of magnitude, if not two, more chakra on that self‑buff than I needed. Probably closer to two, judging by what Sakura showed in the anime. And her reserve was supposed to be small.

I'd used about three percent of my chakra, and the payoff was pretty meh. But whatever, I'll make up for it! It just means I've got room to grow!

We left it at that. After that, using body reinforcement and the chakra blasts from that cool move, I chopped off a log about my own height. Then, after about thirty seconds of practice sticking things to my hands, I started hauling the tree to the clearing like an ant. The weight of the load, way more than my own, didn't bother me much. I had a big chakra reserve, so I was going all‑out.

Once I'd dragged it over, I formed a sequence of hand seals and, again on the first try, performed the Substitution Technique. Weird feeling: one moment I'm standing in one place, blink, and I'm in another. The transition is almost unnoticeable, but at the same time there's this phantom sensation, like for a split second I turned into an ultra‑tiny point and then expanded back. I repeated the technique. Same phantom feeling. Hopefully I'll get used to it.

After that, like I'd planned, I worked on every technique I knew. Except, of course, for the Thousand Years of Death. Shisui refused to be the test subject. Then the sneaky bastard suggested I test the technique on myself. To be "ready," you know. I refused that too. Better to let life stay a bit more unpredictable. Like, for example, the nice surprise of nothing extra suddenly ending up in my ass.

I picked up the basic level of E‑rank techniques almost right away. Either I got lucky with affinity, or the control I'd already drilled on threads and other stuff paid off. Probably more the second, though the first clearly played a part too. After that, progress slowed. But that's fine. I've got time.

That day, after working on ninjutsu a bit, I decided to focus on training body reinforcement, sticking to surfaces, and movement coordination. So for the first hour I tried jumping through the trees with Shisui. After about an hour and a half I'd more or less gotten the hang of it.

So three hours later, when I'd really gotten good at it, we headed back to the residence using the upper routes.

Once we showed up at the Hokage's, I bragged about my achievements. Then I got told I was doing well and to come by at noon tomorrow and for the entire next week. From now on I'd have ninjutsu practice with different jounin at that time. After that they said ANBU would bring me more reading later, and asked me to go and not get in the way. The Hokage had work to do.

Turned out to be a good day.

Although toward the end it started to look suspicious. I mean, my "genius" status is supposed to be classified. Yet here they are scheduling my training with a bunch of people… And we went back into the village by a very "noticeable" route. I'll have to ask about that.

As for Shisui. In spite of my prejudice, he came across as a decent and maybe even reliable guy. And I remembered something about his grandpa—or maybe his dad—Kagami. I'd read about him in a scroll once, and I think he showed up in the anime too. Anyway, that Kagami and his descendant Shisui were apparently really loyal to Konoha. Plus, would Hiruzen have sent him with me if he didn't trust him? Probably not… Unless Shisui has brainwashed everyone here… including me… But no, that sounds like bullshit. Mangekyo has to have limits. And the Uchiha himself, well, again, seemed like a good guy. Also, I hope we meet again soon so I can shake that promise out of him to teach me that cool technique. The one called Shunshin.

---

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[Lillie Jones]

Interested in what Shiui Uchina is teaching Naruto Uzumaki SI next time.
As I love watching precious Naruto Uzumaki SI experiencing a proper Ninja/ Shinobi growth development without any blowback or strings attached.
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[Welydora]

Two weeks had passed since I started training more or less systematically. Mornings I crammed theory, evenings I put it into practice. Of course, it didn't always work out like that: most of the time I ended up polishing old basic skills. But my arsenal was slowly growing.

Naturally, almost right away I asked the Hokage about how "hidden" I was supposed to be. I got what seemed like a decent enough answer.

Turned out my moving around on the rooftops wasn't some crazy wow‑achievement, and no one was going to pay special attention to it. Especially since no one knew I'd learned it in just a few hours.

The fact that I was working on self‑improvement at all—yeah, people would find that out. But to learn anything more, they'd have to spy on me at the training grounds. And that's hard to do when you're being escorted by elite ninja. The only one who could really manage that was probably the Hokage himself, using some badass A‑rank technique called the "Telescope." The secrecy was more about keeping foreign shinobi from knowing too much about me.

As for the jonin they sent with me, the Hokage trusted each of them—they wouldn't blab. They weren't kids, after all. Well, except for Shisui. And one other guy.

The escort‑instructors were different each time but repeated often enough that we ended up with a pool of six shinobi, from tokubetsu jonin up to senior jonin, rotating on a "whoever's free" basis.

When it was Shisui's turn again, it was the fifth day, and by then I'd gotten noticeably better compared to day one. Because of that, I managed to pull off Shunshin—the technique he'd promised to teach me—on my first try.

Shunshin, a D‑rank technique, is basically about giving your chakra properties that lighten your body, letting you hit much higher speeds for the same effort. Shisui can move so fast with it that even battle‑hardened jonin can't always track his movements.

Turned out I had a pretty strong affinity for this technique. The first time I jumped with chakra enhancement, I also partially lightened my body, which sent me flying even farther.

But obviously, after just two weeks of training, I was still a long way from Shisui's level. Though, according to him, I'd definitely end up faster than he'd been at my age. As long as I didn't drop my training. And I wasn't going to.

Besides that technique, I also learned and honed all the most well‑known basic shinobi skills (E‑rank techniques). Among them:

I learned to walk on water. Turned out it was harder than walking on trees, but by the end of the first day I practiced it, I was using the technique just as freely.

I also learned to use hand seals to create a quickly dissipating smoke cloud with less chakra. Basically, a smokescreen to duck behind in a hurry if needed.

I also worked on improving my focus and concentration with the leaf‑on‑the‑forehead thing and trying to blank out the whole world. Supposedly, that's meant to boost overall attentiveness, which is a useful skill in general. For example, for the next topic.

Sensory stuff—sensory jutsu—is when a shinobi, usually by tuning out the world, shapes and fills their chakra with properties that focus on the energy around them—other chakra, basically. That way some sensors—as they call people trained to feel chakra over long distances—can sense someone else's signature from tens of kilometers away.

Of course, the technique has its limits. For one, you have to detach yourself; that need shrinks over time but never completely goes away, or it gets replaced by using the ground more openly as a transmitter: the shinobi puts a hand to the earth and senses enemy chakra that way. Also, to feel chakra at really long range, there can't be too many interfering signatures around, and the target has to not be constantly changing the properties of their energy, throwing off your focus, and also not suppressing the pulses of their chakra—those same pulses the sensor actually picks up as a signature.

There's another option where a shinobi blasts out a burst of their own chakra and senses how that energy passes through a hiding ninja, but even that doesn't always work if the target has really high control and way better concealment skills. Very skilled sensors—like, really skilled—can make their energy kind of transparent… better to say "nonexistent" to other energy, by giving their chakra the right properties.

The obvious downside of the pulse‑detection method is that the sensor is basically yelling over a huge distance, "I'm right here, come stab me."

Also, not all sensors know how to hide their own energy, and not everyone who can hide their chakra is a sensor. But the two techniques have a lot in common, so it's pretty common to find a stealth‑type and a sensor rolled into one person.

I got most of my information on sensory jutsu, and even a lot of the finer points, from one of my instructors. We even played a game called "Dig Up a Worm for Fishing." Or rather, he called it serious training. But it was basically a game where my instructor, an earth‑style user, would quickly hide two meters underground and move a few meters to the side (by the end of our training, he'd even try to hide his chakra), and I had to find him and dig him up. With my body enhancement, that part wasn't hard.

That way I unlocked a very useful ability to feel chakra. My affinity for it wasn't especially high, but with enough effort I could develop it pretty far, according to the instructor. It also turned out I had a much better affinity for sensing chakra at close range than far away.

When I was looking for the "worm," I tried to use my chakra‑sensing specifically, turning off my sphere vision, which, by the way, keeps slowly expanding over time. In two weeks I developed my sensory skills pretty decently. Even though at close range they're still nowhere near as good as my sphere vision. By chakra alone I can't even tell a dog from a person. I just feel that there's a little "spark" of energy over there somewhere. Even at close range, sensory skills don't let me feel an object's outline, which means they don't let me, say, dodge a shinobi's punch right next to me.

To feel chakra at close range, you don't need any special concentration, as long as the shinobi isn't hiding. Ordinary non‑sensor shinobi, at least the experienced ones, can sense chakra signatures anyway—either by turning just a tiny bit of their own chakra into sensory chakra, or without even consciously doing that. Or rather, they do it unconsciously, thanks to affinity or habit (or both at once).

The next ninjutsu area I studied was genjutsu. Or rather, the part of it that was important for me to learn, with a different instructor—the technique for breaking illusions. You do it by disrupting your own chakra flow, or an ally's if the illusion was cast on them. Unfortunately, they didn't really enlighten me on how genjutsu themselves are structured and cast; they focused on every possible way of getting rid of illusions.

Genjutsu itself is usually built on interacting with the victim's nervous system and brain via chakra. Genjutsu targets the five senses (sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell), because that's how the brain gets information about the world. By messing with those signals using chakra, a genjutsu user can:

Make the target see, hear, or feel things that aren't there. Fake images, sounds, phantom pain.

Change how the target perceives their surroundings or the genjutsu user themselves.

Feed the victim false information to nudge their decisions or actions.

To get out of a genjutsu, the victim first has to realize they're in one. And that's not always easy. They trained me to pay attention to details. To be sensitive to my own chakra. But that still won't always save you from a true genjutsu master… and by "master" my instructor almost always meant the Uchiha.

To put someone under a genjutsu and start manipulating chakra inside them, the user has to somehow "get into" their system. Technically, you could try just shoving your chakra in directly, but that's not efficient—shinobi got smarter than that a long time ago. So they started using the sense organs as entry points, channels to deliver the genjutsu user's chakra.

Back in the earlier days of the chakra world, a lot of masters focused on a single sense, building up an affinity so it got easier and easier to push their chakra through that one sense organ. At first the idea didn't really work all that well. But now… now it's basically how everyone uses genjutsu.

The Uchiha are the prime example—they're the best in this field. Their dojutsu (eye technique) is itself a source of powerful chakra with unique properties that are perfect for genjutsu. Why and how, my instructor didn't know. Unfortunately, he wasn't in the group of scientists who dissect red‑eyes, though from what I could tell, he really wanted to.

The eyes are directly connected to the brain via the optic nerve. When a target looks into a Sharingan, they're not just seeing the eyes—they're picking up a specific flow of chakra the Uchiha is projecting through their eyes. That eye contact creates a direct "bridge" for the Uchiha's chakra to penetrate the target's nervous system and start controlling it. For their kind of genjutsu, that's the most direct and effective method. Although, say, sunglasses can get in the way of that.

Though, as the instructor also said, there are special prodigies among the Uchiha, and sometimes straight‑up monsters, who don't need eye contact at all. One of those is the head of their clan, and I got very firm recommendations to stay the hell away from him…

Lucky me, I got the nervous instructor. Up till then no one had ever tried to propaganda‑blast me with "how terrifying the Uchiha are." This guy really went all in.

I doubt everything is as that nutcase described it, though. I'm almost sure it's just his paranoia.

Said the paranoid one.

Because if it were otherwise, the Uchiha would already be ruling the world with their almighty genjutsu. Which means genjutsu aren't almighty. With insane levels of chakra sensitivity and control—which that paranoid guy later confirmed, though grudgingly—it's supposedly possible to resist even very strong genjutsu. Like the Hokage can, for example. Any Hokage. My instructor couldn't recall a single historical case of Madara putting Hashirama under genjutsu. Even though Madara had to have been insanely strong in his clan's techniques.

You can also cast illusions through other senses. Through sound, for example: when special chakra‑infused sound waves reach the target's ears, they stimulate the auditory nerve. That nerve also leads to the brain.

It sounds complicated, but it's actually doable with some effort.

Another, and for now last, area that interested me even more than all the others was fuinjutsu.

The basics of this art I got from scrolls, and I honed those skills with different instructors.

For whatever reason, the term "fuinjutsu" had two meanings. First, it's a special technique for sealing something—objects, chakra, living beings—inside something else. Basically, a kind of spatial pocket that plays with the metric of space while skewering the laws of reality on a long rod. But in this world, that's just normal.

More importantly, "fuin" also means sealing chakra properties, and the chakra with those properties, for later release. In essence it still feels like one concept, but not quite, because the release is meant to be stretched out over time and, for some reason, not as tightly tied to the creator.

A fuinjutsu master can, for example, draw a little circle somewhere and imbue it with the property of creating a tiny flame above the seal. Once the fuin starts working, the person can just get up and walk to the other side of the world and stop caring about their creation. The flame will keep burning without the creator's direct will. Only when the fuin runs out of chakra—which, by the way, can be supplied by someone else—will the flame go out. But it's also important that the flame will still go out if the fuin master dies. Because any "author's" fuin is tied to the creator's chakra. In that case, topping the seal up with chakra doesn't help once the creator is dead.

So they taught me how to feed chakra into other fuin, and also strongly advised me not to test this energy transfer technique on other people. Unless, of course, I ever needed to torture someone with my aggressive chakra.

Creator‑type fuinjutsu is only available to fuin masters. In general, you get the rank of fuinjutsu master for a certain level of ability to give chakra properties strong enough to create fuin seals of a certain power.

But fuinjutsu is also tied to certain symbols, usually kanji, that denote different effects. That means a user, even if they're not a fuin master, can draw a few symbols—say, with chakra‑conductive ink—and then run their chakra through them, and the fuin will work too. The user doesn't have to imbue the symbols with special‑property chakra; they don't even have to understand what they wrote. The fuin will still work.

The thing is, the planet's chakra, you could say, "remembers" a fuin symbol if it's been active for a long time. After that, it's enough to just draw that simple symbol, without giving it any properties.

So, in general, you can stick properties into any symbol, drawing, whatever, and after a while it'll start working on its own.

From this came a pretty surprising thought. A few times, walking around Konoha, I'd see drawings of the male reproductive organ. Could it be that some fuinjutsu master had poured something multifaceted and profound into that image—that's why some people are so irresistibly drawn to sketching this supreme art?

I'll have to try adding a fuin for better ambient chakra absorption to one of those sometime.

In general, all "remembered" fuin absorb the planet's chakra by some not‑very‑clear principles. But with an extra seal—some old design that works off weird, barely understood properties—the efficiency jumps several times over.

Maybe then the drawing will ascend to the next level.

Anyway, back to fuin symbols: there's a whole alphabet of them, with long‑ass scrolls on compatibility and different combinations. Things aren't exactly rosy there, since the data was grabbed from different countries and clans and stitched together however it fit. Some stuff's been lost, a lot of it is built on archaic logic. But there's still plenty to work with.

It's these ready‑made symbols that fuin masters mostly use, sometimes weaving in a few of their own. It's more efficient in terms of effort versus result.

Shinobi can also form symbols with their chakra on the ground or right in the air—that's a pretty easy skill to learn, which went straight into my bag of tricks. Some ninja need way less than a second to charge over a hundred symbols like that and form a fuin seal.

A fuin master can create their own symbol, or even a chain of symbols, and then spend a long time polishing them so at some point they can create them relatively quickly. But even then it'll still be slower than just drawing the standard ones.

Another well‑known but barely confirmed fact: the number of author‑type fuin you can have is limited. Since all of a user's chakra is linked, and has to stay linked for author‑type fuin to function, the more such seals you have, the more they drain their creator. The limits are very high, but they're there. That's why people who mass‑produce fuin are almost always non‑masters who just draw fuin schematics with ink on special paper. Those paper tags, mostly explosive tags, are cranked out on an assembly line. And because of how unique author‑type fuin are, a master's custom seals are even more expensive.

With one instructor I practiced creating an explosive seal, which detonates when hit with a specific chakra pulse you set in advance. I learned how to use—but not create—storage fuin scrolls. Meaning, how to seal and unseal items. And also how to put a simple paralysis seal on someone by drawing the right symbols with chakra.

This field really hooked me, because with fuin you can literally surpass your own limits. There are special seals that boost sensitivity, letting you study things in crazy depth. There are ones that help in medicine. That kind of stuff just blows my interest wide open. So once I polish my inscription skills a bit more, I'm definitely going to try and shake more knowledge on this topic out of the old man.

Those two weeks were packed.

When I stepped outside, I was already getting sick of the sight of the buildings around me, with those… pipes, which no longer triggered the old negative feelings or the urge to lecture the local builders on how wrong they were.

Before this, my training, according to the Hokage, had been "just kids' games." But for the time being, that was better than nothing. Over these two weeks, though, the old man had found people who were ready to take me on seriously.

Soon I was supposed to meet the first one.

Now I was standing in a kind of windowless gym, full of all sorts of training machines I'd never seen before. Lots of different hunks of metal, each with inlays of black metal. That stuff, as I'd read, was from a special ore, then soaked in chakra‑conductive ink; inside the metal of the equipment there could be a whole bunch of author‑type fuin.

I spent about a minute looking everything over before I noticed the door slide aside.

Then, ducking and turning sideways, a damn machine, not a man, stepped in! I'm sure if he'd existed in my old world, he would've easily taken the Mr. Olympia title.

Dark‑skinned, which is rare for the Land of Fire, but more importantly—holy shit, what a massive, jacked guy. A mountain of a man, at least from my fairly close‑to‑the‑ground point of view. Black tank top, regular shinobi pants. No hair on the visible skin except for black eyebrows.

"Yo, I'm Toraki Roen," he said, rolling his shoulders with surprising grace as he walked over and greeted me in a deep, bass voice. Then, grinning wide enough to show every tooth, he bent down and held out his huge paw.

"Hey, Uzumaki Naruto," I introduced myself back, even though that was probably obvious, and shook two of his fingers—I couldn't get a grip on more. "Are you gonna be my trainer?"

He looked seriously impressive.

At my question, his face twitched. But he quickly smoothed his expression out and went on.

"That's… You know, I'm a pretty humble guy. But still, just call me 'sensei.' To make sure we understand each other, let me clarify. I have three higher‑education degrees," he straightened up and started counting on his fingers, "kinesiology, nutrition science, and eudaimonology. I've also defended my doctoral dissertation and made a significant contribution to the development of biology and training methods."

"Whoa…" The respect in my eyes shot up, and I gave him another once‑over. He looked pretty young for that kind of résumé—around forty, at a guess. "So, are we starting?"

I asked, while in the back of my mind thinking that apparently here too there was this trend where, besides real pros, people who'd just finished some two‑week course also called themselves "trainers." If that was the case, no wonder Roen didn't want to be called a "trainer."

"Of course," he nodded, his smile not fading for a second, and then started explaining. "Let's get right to it. We'll be working together for quite a while, and I'll be adjusting your training plan. Until you really get to know your own body and don't need me anymore. I'll also put together a nutrition plan and keep an eye on your mental health and motivation. You did understand what my degrees are in, right?"

"…In short, yeah. I'm guessing it's exactly what we'll be working on?"

He nodded.

"Excellent, you know how to use logic. You'll need it in training. Let's begin. First I'll teach you the technique, and for the next week we'll be testing your limits. To make your training as effective as possible!"

"Uh‑huh…"

"But…" His smile turned into a predatory grin and he spread his arms in an inspiring pose. "Get ready for pain! Because only through pain is strength born!"

---

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[Lillie Jones]

Thanks for the chapter
Naruto Uzumaki SI gets an Kenseth trainer for his personal, nutritional health but also like a Might Guy lite without all crazy training weights.
Continue on
Cheers !

 

[Welydora]

One Week Later

Standing in the power rack—a training cage with safety bars to catch the barbell if the athlete fails a lift or just collapses—I was pulling some serious weight.

"Light weight, baby! Light weight!" Roen cheered, while what felt like five tons of steel rested on my back.

The seals on the machine were slowly drawing on my energy to bind my body and give that kind of resistance. In reality, I only had two hundred kilos on my shoulders.

My body hummed from the strain and the energy coursing through it. If not for chakra enhancement, my body wouldn't have been able to lift even a hundredth of that load.

"Every rep is a step towards greatness. Come on, lift that iron!"

My massive chakra reserves, combined with my ability as a jinchuriki to regenerate quickly, let me do terrible things to myself. And without any real harm to my health. All for the sake of progress.

At first, I started with the seals turned off completely, like most shinobi do. Ninja, with very few exceptions, are focused on speed. They can't lift one or two hundred kilos, yet with their legs, in motion, they can put out force equivalent to thousands, even tens of thousands of men.

Jumps of nearly a hundred meters are no joke.

My work with these kinds of weights is only possible thanks to my strong Yang nature, an immense talent for energy control, and, to some extent, my previous experience with managing energy.

That's just how humanity here developed—everything into speed. Everything into leg work. And, sure, strengthening the body so it can withstand the loads from movement… but that doesn't help much with pure arm strength.

Without my noticing, my mind drifted into memories. But my body didn't stop working like crazy.

On the first day, my training was conducted with a whole dozen medical-nin who came in a bit later. After hooking me up with wires, they were practically drooling over the numbers for my regeneration and other aspects of my body's adaptability. To be fair, so was I. Those stats turned out to be, like, many times better than a cockroach's.

With every set, I got better at controlling chakra to enhance my body. As a result, on the very first day, my body pulled a couple of tons.

After that, they had to urgently summon the fuin master who'd made the training equipment, because my physical training sensei predicted that the seals, which had been "made with a huge safety margin" for a three‑ton load, would soon not be enough.

My training was focused on developing explosive power first and endurance second. Naturally, they drew up a program built to pump exactly those stats.

Getting back to my body's toughness and regeneration—those traits were used to the fullest.

Turned out that after each training session, I didn't need a long rest. On the contrary, if I had constant access to food, I could handle as many as three sessions a day.

For reference, only very genetically gifted shinobi can repeat that, and even then, not without steroids.

But the limits of my body were still eventually found. Only when some enterprising doctors gave me some interesting little pills and injected me with some no less interesting drugs. Because of that, on the fifth day of training, I was able to push a monstrous load—around eighty to ninety percent of my max—for eighteen hours straight. And what's even crazier—I could have kept going; my body was practically bursting with energy.

Except that by the end of that time, my heart and other organs started to slowly lose efficiency, so the doctors, quite reasonably—despite the rush from the drugs that had me in their grip and my stubborn resistance—used some jutsu to knock my ass out.

The experiment was fun. The next day was almost normal.

I'd been expecting insane muscle soreness, but nope, by morning my body had recovered even from that. In just four hours, actually, since they'd prudently hooked me up to parenteral nutrition—IV drips with all the necessary elements—so I had plenty of resources for recovery.

Only a slight fatigue throughout the morning reminded me that it probably wasn't the best idea to do that. Although, in principle, it was doable. Even without constant doctor oversight—my body turned out to be, again, very tough and much more capable of drawing resources for itself from the chakra it produced. So I didn't need any drugs just to develop normally.

At least, that was the conclusion the doctors came to after their diagnostics. And they shut down the whole "interesting drugs" operation when they calculated the chances of deformed physical development—the odds were pretty low, but, as I found out, the Hokage had forbidden them from doing anything that could harm me.

Yeah… Remembering that feeling of relentless drive and the urge to move non‑stop, I almost regret that I can't keep doing it. On the other hand, the old man's concern warms me—it's kind of touching.

By the end of the week, the doctors and Toraki‑sensei had finished building my initial training program, eventually cutting it down to two sessions a day, once every three days.

That way my development wouldn't slow down too much, but I'd free up a lot of time for other things. With certain drugs, they could have cut the number of workouts even more, but that was overkill. I still needed time to practice the body‑enhancement technique, to feel and shape chakra inside my body better, and so on. Time in the gym is considered one of the best situations for that.

The training program wasn't aimed at big muscle hypertrophy, meaning a huge increase in size. So I was never going to get anywhere near as massive as Roen.

Toraki‑sensei, by the way, had once wanted to be a shinobi. But he didn't get lucky in the genetic lottery, and for all his external power, he's only as strong as a solid Chunin. Which is actually impressive, considering people with his kind of talent usually don't become ninja at all. But by dedicating his whole life to physical development, he pulled off almost a miracle through sheer effort. Though in terms of real shinobi combat, he's not that strong—his main skill is developing and training others, so even a combat‑type genin could probably beat him. And that's despite the fact that, on paper, Roen holds the rank of senior jounin because of his achievements. He gets a huge salary, often travels around the country to all sorts of scientific conferences, and all that.

But that doesn't diminish what he's accomplished. Just walking into a room, this guy with insane determination makes your inner fire flare up and pushes you to keep going, to reach no less greatness.

Usually shinobi, to my surprise, don't hit the gym on a regular basis. The average ninja gets enough leg and full‑body training from sparring alone. Those loads, in principle, give results not much worse than if they did go to the gym. But for the sake of five, maybe ten or fifteen percent more speed, almost no one wants to pour in a ton of extra time on top of everything else. That's why the average ninja looks pretty lean, without any obvious muscles.

But the minority that does go thinks differently. You could say they're a separate breed that believes every drop of strength might be what keeps you from dying. Throwing away a chance to protect your life, when you could just trade a few hours a week for hard work instead of some random bullshit—that's dumber than dying way earlier.

With my genes, the difference wouldn't be just a few dozen percent. In one case, I'd reach the level of an average Kage—with almost no training. In the other, the level of a God of Shinobi, like the First, who eats those same Kage for breakfast, if I worked flat‑out. That's… assuming I do any training at all. But the gap is so massive that the miser in me, the part that's supposed to be hoarding money, wraps its cold little paws around my neck every time I even think about ditching all this and burying my talent.

Not that those thoughts showed up often, and with Toraki‑sensei's support they were easily crushed by the sense of inevitable progress. Compared to Roen, who'd busted his ass his whole life to tear a few tons off the ground, I'd already lifted more thanks to better genetics and a much greater talent for energy control.

They also told me about how much higher I could aim. There was—and still is somewhere, wandering around and drinking herself stupid—the Third's student. Tsunade, her name was. She's got a huge talent for energy control, and one of her main specializations is body enhancement. She got so good at it that, despite looking like a pretty fragile woman, she can lift several times more than I can right now. And what's even more important—she can land blows a whole order or two of magnitude stronger than what you'd expect from those raw strength numbers. But that's thanks to a technique that releases a burst of chakra right at the moment of impact.

She's the one I wanted to surpass. No idea when that'll happen. But it's a damn good goal.

"Excellent! Next up on the plan: high‑speed jump rope."

Racking the barbell, I followed my sensei.

My body was pleasantly buzzing from the load, and only a slight shortness of breath reminded me I'd been working with something heavy.

Even in just a week, my muscles had grown a fair bit, and their outlines were already clearly visible under my skin. It also felt like someone had shoved a crowbar down my spine from all the back training, and my posture had become perfect. The shape from my ghostly past life was slowly returning.

"You're performing the technique perfectly," Roen said. "Soon you'll be able to train without me."

I just nodded in response, focused on my tasks. Picking up a jump rope with a very tough cable and throwing a weighted vest onto my torso so I'd land faster and put more load on my body, I still decided to clarify:

"Are we going to be seeing each other a lot less?"

A bit of sadness slipped into my voice. In a pretty short time, I'd gotten used to his constant hype‑up.

"Not as rarely as you might think." With the same inspiring smile, he winked and struck a bodybuilder pose. "I don't have that much free time, and it's not rational to spend it on something that doesn't need it. Soon I'll be heading to the capital, where the competition for the title of Rengoku no Taiko will be held!"

I froze at his words and almost dropped the jump rope.

"Drum of Hell? So what exactly are you going to be competing in there, sensei?"

I was genuinely curious; the name itself didn't tell me much. Although from the way he was posing, I had my suspicions.

He stopped showing off his muscles and, as if stating the obvious, said:

"A competition for the greatest muscle mass, symmetry, proportions, and definition in the Land of Fire."

"Uh, yeah, fitting name. What was I even thinking…"

Sometimes you run into some really colorful locals who give things totally impractical names.

"Good luck, sensei. I figure you'll wipe the floor with everybody there."

"Thank you!"

After that, we continued the workout.


Soon Roen left, once my routine had more or less settled. But literally a few days later, I ran out of basic material on the shinobi arts. It was time to choose some specializations and dive into them.

Spreading myself thin over everything was a dumb move that would just leave me knowing a lot of stuff on the surface, and any narrow specialist would outclass me. So, after what seemed to me a pretty sane assessment of the available fields, I started studying medicine and fuin. For now in a general sense—later I hoped to focus on working with genes to overcome the body's limits.

My motivation was the same as ever—I need to become very strong, stronger than any human who has ever existed. The Otsutsuki threat is way too big, even if I'm still far from reaching my own limits. But those limits exist, and they need to be broken. How—that's not clear yet, but that's a problem for future me.

Besides that, though, I think I was starting to genuinely enjoy studying anything related to chakra more and more. Over time, the purely rational motive—this is something you have to do: train, grow—started picking up emotional color, turning into real interest.

For medical ninjutsu, I was enrolled as a student at the hospital. Unfortunately, the Hokage didn't manage to find some legendary sensei, but there were plenty of good and even very good specialists in the hospital. I'd just be making the rounds between them, studying the pile of information that pretty much everyone there knew at a decent level: healing wounds and diseases with chakra, and for that, anatomy and pharmacology.

First thing they did was give me access to a huge library.

Actually, as I'd later realize, it wasn't that huge. Here, in science, a lot of things are tied to how chakra works, not just how the body works. Healing, for example, doesn't require a super deep understanding of biosciences—just a reasonably deep grasp of anatomy and some chakra theory.

Or rather, not deep by the standards of the sciences from my previous world. No doubt, especially thanks to peacetime, medicine here had advanced quite a bit. But as I dug through the scrolls, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that some things here, considered recent discoveries for real specialists, were just basic common knowledge in my past world—stuff from high school biology textbooks.

Not that it's surprising. Different world, different development path.

Medicine, even at the very beginning, wasn't some useless discipline for me. Even if, with the Mystical Palm Technique—which I still had to master—I couldn't heal other people. Not unless I learned to properly filter my chakra from the aggressive properties of the bijuu's energy. But I could heal—very effectively—myself. Just by speeding up training progress. Getting there, though, would take a lot of practice.

The Mystical Palm Technique is basic for medical‑nin. But it's also a pretty complex A‑rank jutsu. It's about pouring energy into someone's body—or your own—and kind of projecting through it the command, "Move, damn you!", making the body's internal mechanisms kick regeneration into high gear. The main thing with this technique is that you need really fine control: enough chakra so it actually does something, but not so much that you accidentally kill the patient.

After they drilled me on the basic theory, they let me practice on a nice big fish.

Knowing who I was, the medic who brought it in had already buried the poor thing with his eyes.

He was right.

When I pushed what felt to me like the tiniest bit of chakra into the fish, it instantly exploded into bloody mince.

Washing myself off, then helping clean the room, was not exactly pleasant.

Usually, by the way, from an excess of chakra, organisms go into something like suspended animation. Only with high affinity do weird things start happening. For some people, the fish might, for example, catch fire. Or swell up from increased water content. Or start getting covered in cuts, like it'd run through solid blades of wind. In my case, because of my wind affinity, something like that last one happened. Just a lot stronger than expected… Maybe the Fox's chakra got mixed in there too.

On the second attempt, to the surprise of the same doctor—who, for some reason, had called over a friend and put a weak barrier around me—and thanks to my insane concentration, the fish just started twitching, getting covered in cuts, and giving off the smell of scorched flesh. But it stayed… in one piece.

After that, though, progress went a lot slower. It took me a full three weeks to get to the point where the fish would just thrash from pain, sometimes "leak" from internal bleeding, but at the same time heal up at an accelerated rate.

At first, I felt sorry for the fish. Even though, in this life, I've personally eaten more than a few kilos of fish. But feeling a living thing's suffering under your hands and eating that same thing with tasty spices are two completely different experiences.

By the end of that period, though, I think I'd cooled off a lot.

Training became routine, and the cooling bodies under my hands became something ordinary. Even if they weren't human.

I've still got about that much practice ahead of me before I can safely start working on my favorite patient—myself.

Besides the more or less healing techniques, I studied pharmacology: creating different kinds of medicines, stimulants, poisons, and the like. For that, I ran massive tomes through my brain; in three weeks I must've read a kilometer of scrolls. To my surprise, the knowledge sank in easily. At some point I just realized my mind had gotten used to huge workloads, to constant analysis, and my memory stat had shot way up. Normal people can't just read a page once and, a month later, repeat it almost word for word, right? Usually they can't. But in some shinobi clans, even among kids, that's normal. Just not in the clan I belong to.

From what I found out, people around me chalk it up to a lucky combo of genes. I figure it's also the result of the huge strain on my brain from having an adult mind since birth. And that load has only gone up over time. It's entirely possible both explanations are right, plus some third, fourth, whatever else that nobody even suspects.

For pharmacology, they taught me a weird and not very effective—without a ton of practice—method for determining the properties of plants and some other materials, like animal parts and minerals, by taste and smell, for later use in medical ninjutsu. The idea was that if a shinobi got lost in some unknown area, somewhere really, really far away, without a local bestiary, he could still whip up primitive medicine after first figuring out what the stuff around him actually was.

The catalogs of known plants were huge; I studied them, of course. But you can always stumble on something new.

By the way, among non‑shinobi, figuring out properties by smell and taste is super inaccurate. And to learn how to boost my basic senses with chakra to a decent level, I had to spend a lot of time. And eat several kilos of random herbs along the way.

Some flowers taste pretty damn awful. But power demands sacrifice…

In parallel, I was studying fuinjutsu. Can't say it was easier, but it was definitely more monotonous.

In that field, my sensei was Hiruzen himself, since he knew it very well. His teaching didn't actually take much time though, because most of learning fuin is: studying seals, practicing them, and training yourself to pack specific properties into your chakra. On that foundation I need to push further, so I can first "read" the original seals of the masters and then start creating my own.

But not all at once. With fuinjutsu, you can't just rush in and grab everything; I needed time to get results.

And so time stretched on in this mess of different studies. Until a new, annoying, but very game‑changing person showed up in my life…

---

If you enjoyed my work, feel free to check out my Patreon. There you can read up to 20 chapters ahead and get early access to any new stuff that I publish

 

[Lillie Jones]

thanks for the chapter
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[Welydora]

A month passed. Life fell back into rhythm.

Roan came back from his competition, where he'd become the top something-or-other "Drum." I've always had a very selective memory when it comes to dumb names. Anyway, he showed them who had the biggest muscles.

My schedule got a little too familiar. I had plenty of free time—several days a week. In a world without wide‑spread internet, that got kind of boring.

It's not like I was tired of what I usually did. I could've just spent even more time on training. But I wanted something… different.

So yeah, I got hit with some wild thoughts about how I was a future shinobi, a killer and all that. Not that I liked the idea—killing wasn't part of the social code where I came from, so I had mixed feelings about it. But given the threats to this world, the same Akatsuki, killing is the most efficient way to deal with a threat. It's easier, and the requirements for it are lower than for capturing someone alive. So with my limited strength—of which I might not have any surplus by the time it matters—I'll have to use any means available. There's no room for morality when it's my existence on the line…

Ugh. Cheerful stuff. Luckily, I shook it off pretty fast and moved on to something a bit more upbeat.

Right now I figured I should probably hurry up and learn how to fight. The earlier I start, the stronger I'll be later. With that in mind, I went to the Hokage. Again.

I don't know whose pockets he dipped into, but the old man said he'd take care of this too. A week ago I'd gone home happy, expecting some martial arts pro, the same way Roan was a pro at physical conditioning.

Only when I showed up at the closed underground training ground—yeah, Konoha has those—what I saw was an old hag. Really old, with a cane. And something about her rubbed me the wrong way immediately.

"Uh… Hello, Elder-sama?" I greeted the granny with the squinted eyes, two pinned-up buns of almost completely gray hair, loose robes and, as mentioned, a stick.

This was Hiruzen's former teammate, Utatane Koharu, one of the village elders and a very respected person in Konoha.

"Hmph," came a dry, emotionless grunt. Koharu slowly ran her gaze over me from head to toe, sizing me up with narrowed eyes like a vegetable at the market. "Uzumaki Naruto. Hiruzen has spoken a great deal about you. Exaggerating, I presume."

"Oh?" That caught my interest. "About what, exactly? And why 'exaggerating'?"

"He was right about your curiosity," she nodded flatly. "And about a certain… lack of restraint. As for your persistence, 'great talent' and 'ability to learn quickly'… You lack tactical training and an understanding of real combat. I am not here to dance circles around you or praise every successful jump. My task is to assess your potential and, if it exists, make you into a tool useful to Konoha. If not—then we shouldn't waste valuable resources on you."

"Hmph," I choked on air. "A tool? You should choose your terms more carefully when you talk to me."

I disliked her even more.

I tried to pin her down with my stare as hard as I could, but all I got back was wide, surprised eyes. Apparently no one had talked to the Elder like that in a long time.

"A tool implies an owner. But with me, the only kind of relationship on the table is a partnership. Am I being clear?" I spelled it out, just in case she was slow on the uptake.

"…Insolent brat!" the old woman shrieked in a suddenly high voice, and angry chakra flared off her.

A chill ran down my spine, but I crushed the feeling quickly. Her chakra was… weak? Way too weak compared to mine.

"You've been granted a great honor! And you turn your nose up at it! No matter… I'll educate you right now…"

She went to step forward with very clear intentions, then reflexively jumped back as I released my chakra.

The air hissed softly from the energy pouring out of me.

The amount I currently had focused in my body was three times the Elder's entire reserve. And if I wanted to, I could fill it back up more than ten times over.

From the excess of chakra reinforcing my body I felt my hair stir, my clothes billow in the vortices of blue energy. My heart started pounding like a war drum as adrenaline raced through my arteries. Every cell of my body felt filled with power that could burst out at the slightest command.

"Educate me? You?" I was a little confused—there was no killing intent in her chakra. But at the same time, anger at her dismissive attitude boiled up in me and bled straight into my aura. "What can a fossil crippled by three wars even teach? Hiruzen showed that the answer can be 'a lot.'" I raised my hand and jabbed a finger at the Elder. "But you? I doubt you can offer anything but violence."

Koharu opened her mouth to say something, but then a door at the far end of the training ground slammed open, and two ANBU strode in.

Not as fast anymore. After working on the Body Flicker and enhancing my vision with chakra, I could see their blurred movements now. My sphere-vision had sharpened up too; with some effort it kept pace with my normal sight.

"Elder-sama, Uzumaki-san," one of them began as they came closer. "We detected spikes of chakra with intent that doesn't match the nature of your assignment here." After this long sentence he looked us over and, a bit uncertain, added, "How should we interpret that?"

"…As a misunderstanding," Utatane answered, after we finished drilling each other with our eyes. By then I was already standing in a closed-off pose, arms folded. "Everything's under control. You can leave us."

They gave us another once-over, saw no deathmatch in progress, and left.

I kept my chakra running through my body, ready to spring at a moment's notice. It was way easier than when I'd first learned the technique, and thanks to all the training I could maintain that state for quite a while.

She shot me a sharp glare.

"And how long are you planning to stand like that?"

"I could ask you the same thing. You're the 'sensei' here, so go on, lay out your program. Since the Hokage couldn't find anyone better, I'll have to work with what I've got."

We silently buried the topic of how we'd address each other, settling on something moderately rude and completely informal.

The old hag let out an offended snort, but didn't start yelling again, slipping back into her original detached tone.

"My strength is not in flashy jutsu or a massive chakra pool like Hiruzen—my teammate. Or… you," the Elder paused, looking at me with obvious displeasure. She clicked her tongue a couple of times at whatever she'd remembered, then went on: "It lies in cold calculation, in the ability to analyze a situation, find an opponent's weaknesses and exploit them with maximum efficiency. Espionage, sabotage, quiet eliminations, survival in any conditions—that is my field. That's what I'll teach you, if you prove you can learn."

She wasn't lying about her type of strength. Calculation, situational analysis and, I assume, living in the shadow of a stronger teammate. I had to admit a certain respect—surviving to her age as a shinobi is not easy. She clearly wasn't lacking in brains.

"The training will be grueling."

I raised a brow.

Was she serious? Or did no one bother to show the Elder my gym results?

"Mistakes are unacceptable. Laziness is punishable," she said, lifting her cane meaningfully. "This stick isn't for support. It's a great tool for beating lessons into thick skulls. Are you ready?"

Now it was my eye's turn to twitch.

"For a spar? Or are we starting with something more basic?"

"Did you read the scrolls on basic stances and combat tactics that Hiruzen gave you?"

I nodded.

"Then we'll move on to practical drills. We'll correct the details as we go."

Without waiting for my answer, she moved in, closing the five meters between us in less than a second.

My leg swung out in a wide arc, aiming to take out the blurred figure.

But Koharu just shifted her center of gravity and stopped short, letting my kick whistle past. She didn't move in, having guessed that I'd use the momentum to send my other leg straight past her face.

At the same time, I formed a seal, realizing I was out of range, planning to release a burst of chakra smoke from my second foot to blind her, while the first foot—about to hit the ground—would dump chakra into the floor, breaking the footing under her, hidden by the smoke, and buying me time to disengage.

But instead of just waiting for both kicks to miss, Utatane didn't hesitate. Bending out of my line of attack, she swung hard and cracked me across the spine with her cane.

I hadn't even landed yet when I went flying four meters to the side—about a sixth of the distance to the wall.

I tucked in midair, came down in a crouch and immediately straightened.

"Damn, that hurt," I muttered, rubbing my back. Koharu clearly didn't pull her punches.

"Pain is the best teacher," she replied evenly. Her cane was back in its starting position, like it had never moved. "You rely too much on brute strength and speed. You forgot about tactics. Your smoke and ground-breaking plan was predictable and took too long to set up. In a real fight, you'd have been killed three times over by now. Again."

I could feel irritation starting to boil. That wasn't a tactic? A tactic that didn't work is still a tactic. Predictable? It was a damn good combo… But there was no time to argue, and my back was still throbbing.

Fine, let's try something else. Speed and surprise.

I lunged forward, using a short Body Flicker to close the distance as much as possible, forming hand seals at the same time and creating a simple Illusory Clone in front of me. The idea was that she'd react to the clone and have to guess where the real hit was coming from. In that gap I'd attack from the side or from below.

The clone rushed in, but Koharu didn't so much as twitch toward it. Her gaze stayed locked on me. The moment I shifted to the side to attack, her cane swung, looking almost lazy. My eyes couldn't follow it anymore when I was almost in reach, but my sphere-vision showed the staff blurring from speed—and then a stab of pain in my left shoulder made my attacking arm jerk and threw off my balance. The cane instantly changed direction and jabbed me under the ribs on the opposite side. I grunted and jumped back, clutching my flank. The clone vanished without a trace.

"Pathetic attempt," Koharu said. "Your clone was unstable; its chakra was fluctuating—a sign of inexperience. You shifted your focus to your real attack way too obviously. Never telegraph your intentions like that. And watch your balance after a Body Flicker—you were vulnerable for a full tenth of a second. That's enough. And where are your eyes looking? Watch the shoulder, not the hand."

More pain, another humiliating breakdown of my mistakes. I clenched my teeth and got ready for the next exchange. This time: not just misdirection, but evasion and a counter.

Judging by how she was talking, she wasn't expecting much from me. Which meant I could play off her condescension and pull something only shinobi with pretty high control could manage.

When she came at me again, cane swinging, I didn't counterattack. I tensed and jumped back, opening the distance.

I pulled part of my focus away from reinforcing my body and formed the seal for Illusory Clones, this time making four.

We rushed her all at once, passing through each other on purpose so the old hag wouldn't know where I was… or rather, so she'd think that was the trick.

Two clones immediately dispersed. One went around behind her while I approached from the front.

Koharu's gaze flicked between us, trying to pick me out, and she found me at the front fairly quickly, ignoring the clone behind her.

Closing in.

I took up a good position to strike, then focused as hard as I could on the clone.

Whack!

The cane struck where the real me had been, passing through the instantly-dispersed illusion.

At the last second I'd managed to pull off a Substitution—Kawarimi—without seals.

I appeared a meter behind the old woman, ready to hit her… but she was already gone.

My eyes didn't catch it, but my sphere-vision clearly showed that the old hag was now behind me, her cane already on a collision course with my head.

I spun sharply and swung my arms up, almost knocking the cane aside as she yanked it back at the last moment…

Too close.

"What reflexes… Not a bad use of Kawarimi." For the first time during the spar, something like approval slipped into her voice, but it immediately dried up again. "But you picked an obvious spot to reappear. The technique itself was unexpected, but the follow‑through was weak. That's only good for scaring snot‑nosed chunin. You wasted precious moments getting ready to attack again. Remember, Uzumaki: every technique is not an end in itself, but a tool. Use it efficiently, or don't use it at all."

I just snorted at that, and we kept going.

We wrapped up the session after only an hour. By then I was hot, pissed off, covered in bruises and still felt like I could go on for hours. The old hag… the Elder, though, was spent. So we agreed to continue the next day.

Part of me had to admit it—this old bag really knew her stuff.

And the training went on in that vein. As far as calling it "grueling" went, she'd really oversold it. That didn't mean it was exactly easy for me, though.

Koharu turned out to be a merciless, nitpicky instructor. The first few days I spent more time dodging her cane—or taking hits to the arms, legs and back—than actually fighting. At least she didn't smack me in the head. Very often.

Every wrong step, every hesitation, every lapse in focus came with a sharp, painful strike and a dry comment on what I'd done wrong. She didn't raise her voice anymore, didn't curse, didn't act like some hysterical granny during spars. Her blows and her cold analysis worked a lot better.

"Too wide a swing, you're leaving a gap in your guard"—jab to the back of the knee. "Your stance is unstable, you're easy to knock down"—crack across the ankle. "You got distracted by a noise. In battle, that's death"—a stinging smack to the back of the head.

She made me drill basic stances, movement and evasions for hours, until they were pure reflex. She taught me not just to block a hit, but to redirect it, to turn the opponent's momentum against them. She showed how one precise, fast move could throw off the balance of, or even disable, an opponent who was stronger than me. We broke down tactics for different situations: cramped rooms, open ground, forest; fighting one enemy or several. For that, Koharu roped in a bunch of ANBU with different fighting styles, plus some chunin and jonin. Utatane forced me to analyze my own and other people's actions, look for weak spots, think several moves ahead. "A shinobi fights not only with his body, but with his head, Uzumaki. The head is what lets a man kill even the scariest monster," she liked to repeat.

On top of straight taijutsu and tactics, the advisor gave me basics in survival, camouflage and stealth. How to move silently. How to use shadows and cover. How to read tracks and how to throw off a pursuer. Koharu explained the principles of sabotage and espionage—how to gather intel, how to slip into guarded facilities, how to set up and disarm traps and alarm seals. We didn't practice silent killing directly, but the old hag went through the theory in detail—vital points on the body, the most effective and quiet ways to take out sentries or targets, how to hide traces… Not footprints—corpses. All of it was given dryly, pragmatically, as just another set of tools for getting a job done.

"Tool" was her favorite word, as I later noticed.

It was painful and humiliating to keep getting whacked with that cane. But… I basically got used to it, even if the irritation from the regular beatings never quite went away. If anything, it just pushed me further. Because, much as I didn't like her methods, I could see the results. Every day I moved faster, more accurately. I started anticipating the old woman's attacks, dodging the cane more and more. My own movements got cleaner, more economical. I started to get why you had to move exactly this way and not that, why this strike was better than another one.

My skill was growing, and growing noticeably faster than during my solo training or even with other instructors. Koharu beat the excess out of me, leaving just lean, lethal efficiency. My anger at the old hag slowly mixed with a grudging but undeniable respect for her experience and knowledge. She wasn't just making me a strong fighter—she was making me into a real killer.


The new lessons with the Elder took a decent chunk of time, but still fit pretty naturally into my life.

At the very start, I did kind of regret that I couldn't keep my ass still and went asking for a new mentor.

More than a year passed, and that regret was gone without a trace.

I'm six years old. It feels like a huge amount of time has passed. But being buried in all this stuff, I barely noticed how fast it all flew by.

The progress was getting more and more obvious; in that time I'd gotten a lot stronger.

My chakra reserves, they said, were already two and a half times what Hiruzen had at his peak. He has way less now—age hit him hard.

On top of that, my control had grown. Way more than the people calculating my growth curve expected. Control isn't supposed to increase that fast, if you believe the formulas. The researchers split into two camps. Some said it was thanks to a ton of practice and persistence, and that technically it was still within the normal range, just at the very top. Others insisted it was some kind of anomaly and I needed to be observed further so they could study it in detail.

My own opinion floated somewhere in between—I wasn't sure. Maybe it was because of my reincarnation… tied to that somehow. On the other hand, nobody really knows what "control potential" actually depends on. So you can't claim anything for sure.

Reserves and control—it was thanks to knowing how to use those two things that I'd gotten so far.

First thing to note, with the regular training under Toraki-sensei's programs, my body had gotten insanely strong. The Hokage just shook his head and said I really ought to meet his student sometime. But she was still wandering who-knows-where, leaving behind a trail of gambling dens stuffed with the money she'd lost them and a string of bars she'd drunk dry.

I saw Roan less and less. That was kind of sad sometimes. He'd taught me a lot, and I didn't really need his guidance anymore to move forward. I had a lot to do, he had a lot to do. In the end, our joint training just… stopped happening.

But no point sulking. Moving on…

In medicine, I'd gone through the whole course and only recently started getting into genomics and body enhancement. Koharu had given me the Shadow Clone Technique, and thanks to that I could chew through huge amounts of information in a short time. That's how I cleared out the hospital library. It cost me, though—a large number of clones put a heavy load on the brain. And unlike my body, my mind wasn't that tough. But under that kind of pressure over time, it definitely got stronger.

By then I could heal my own body. Very quickly, too, though it still didn't compare to a certain Divine Regeneration technique. Although, as Hiruzen—whose student knew that technique—noted, I wasn't that far behind. The main difference was speed: a fracture (which I gave myself, yeah, I'm that kind of masochist) healed in about fifteen seconds, and a deep cut in ten. The catch is, for regeneration like that I have to sit down and focus on the process as much as possible, while Tsunade can use her technique in the middle of a fight. With a crutch, yeah—the Strength of a Hundred Seal, where she stockpiles and releases insane amounts of chakra. Unfortunately, the Hokage didn't know that technique; it belongs to the Senju clan, and the only person from it who has that knowledge is the Tsunade in question. But I've got my own crutch, and it's always with me—the bijuu's chakra.

Sometimes it's funny watching people squirm when I first ask some deliberately dumb question, pretending I don't understand from the textbooks why my chakra feels so aggressive to others, and then just sit back and watch them try to wriggle out of answering. I'm still forbidden from telling anyone I'm a jinchuriki. I don't ask the Hokage about it, either—what if he cancels the ban or tweaks what exactly people are allowed to tell me? That would ruin all my fun.

As for the fact that the bijuu's chakra lets me heal myself much more effectively—that's an obvious plus.

Lately, my training progress has slowed down a lot. I mean, if you don't compare me to other shinobi.

Because of regeneration and heavy loads, my body hit the peak of its current potential pretty fast. For this size, at least. Once I grow up, I'll be several times stronger.

To keep progressing faster and better, after a long talk with my colleagues—as I now call the doctors at the hospital—and a few experiments on corpses (after a couple of trips to the morgue, they stopped bothering me at all), and after crunching the numbers carefully, I started using medical techniques to artificially densify my muscles, bring them up to a slightly higher quality, do the same to my bones, and generally develop the whole organism—respiratory system, circulatory system, all of it—so the body could actually handle that kind of load. But so far, the results of that technique have been questionable.

A technique is not just doing something; it also means "packing certain properties into your chakra."

To strengthen my body, I'd stand in the center of a fuin array the Hokage drew up when he got interested in the idea. The seal itself partially gave my chakra the needed properties, kind of "pushing" my affinity forward and giving me more oomph at the same chakra density. In simple terms, it boosted the technique. By spreading those properties through the chakra circulating all over my body, I was stimulating the organism to develop according to a specific template. The one I'd put together with my colleagues.

But again, the results were so-so. Yeah, something was changing, but my strength stats weren't exactly shooting up.

Staying on medicine: my control was now enough to heal other people too. I didn't reach any great heights in that area, and that kind of healing doesn't even come close to what I can do for my own body. Suppressing the nasty properties of my chakra eats up too much of my CPU load for me to keep pace with the other doctors' growth.

Back to sealing and fuinjutsu. You may congratulate me: in just half a year of practice I became a fuinjutsu master. Meaning I can design my own seals. For now, yeah, they can't compare to Hiruzen's work. But he's the strongest living fuin master in the nearby… world? While with what I've got already, if I lived in some xianxia cultivation world, every old fart proudly calling himself a "master" would be coughing blood.

Hard work and talent—that's what supposedly makes you unreachable.

That saying's actually wrong. They forgot to add "a shitload of time."

Right now I was very reachable. Even if I was progressing fast.

I studied a ton of existing seals. I also kept practicing making my own, but that was going painfully slow. I wanted to make something similar to the medical seal Hiruzen came up with. I just didn't have the skill yet. So for now, all I could do was keep training and stamping out little trinkets at my level.

My long‑term plan was to create something at the intersection of medicine and fuin to analyze genomes. But I'm too weak for that right now. I'll still be too weak in a year… and in three… maybe even in ten… To pull that off, I need to surpass Hiruzen. And I don't even know by how much. Probably not by some crazy huge factor, judging by the indirect results of a few studies I read—but even that will take years.

My development in combat went especially well. My freakish physical stats let me put out enormous power—as well as speed and stamina.

It bugged me that the development of my chakra network had slowed down, along with my body as a whole.

But it felt damn good to realize how strong I'd become when I was beating up yet another ANBU in a spar.

I used to be surprised that some kids became shinobi so early. At eight, five, even three and a half.

That was before one of the hospital doctors explained shinobi potential and its limits to me, of course. Potential gets mastered relatively quickly. With my crazy‑ass training and correspondingly huge potential, it still took a year and a half. Right now, though, the thing that limits my strength the most is my kid body. In an adult one, I'd definitely be Kage‑level. Well, if we're talking pure taijutsu. And that's with my combat experience not being all that big yet.

As it is… I still get my ass kicked by various jonin pretty often. They're just bigger, which makes it hard for me to even reach their heads to hit them. Some of them can still pull off higher combat speed. Overall speed, not just sprinting, for example. With their huge experience, older shinobi orient themselves in a fight more easily and faster, and can beat me off that alone. I've got great physical power, but using it properly—that's still an issue.

There's also the problem of time—I just haven't spent enough years in this body. Shinobi use chakra for years, they get used to it. And over a longer life they simply end up controlling their bodies way better.

Me, my unaccustomed brain has to work a lot harder to get the same results—results that will come much, much easier with time, even if I just lie on a couch and move once in a while over the next five–ten years.

On top of that, affinity strengthens over time too…

In short, I just need to get older.

But whatever, no point whining. It's just more motivation to keep moving forward. And if I manage to maintain this pace, I'll only be stronger by then. I'm already happy that thanks to Koharu's pretty average potential, I've almost completely stopped getting whacked across the spine with her cane.

Back to the present.

Morning.

I was bored again… Yeah, looks like I really don't learn from my mistakes. Guess I wanted to get hit again. In the head, for example.

Because right then I was on my way to the Hokage's residence so he could give me something interesting to do. I wanted to go on a mission.

I'd even come up with a solid excuse, in my opinion. Koharu says I don't measure up to a real shinobi (a "normal" shinobi by her standards is something like an elite jonin with ten years of experience, who's been through one or two wars and has a decent talent in their field). In every spar, both me and my opponent have to hold back so we don't kill each other.

And that's true. With every fight I notice more and more moments where if I turned my arm just a bit more, I'd knock my partner's head clean off; if I grabbed an opponent who overextended, I'd feel flesh tearing under my fingers; if my palm with the "adhesion" property I use to run on trees touched their body, my powerful chakra would turn their scrawny frame into bloody mush.

For better or worse, I haven't experienced anything like that yet. To my detriment, according to the Elder. Because "only in a real battle do you temper hot blood," or something along those lines.

It was… still pretty creepy, if you ask me. But I think I can handle it. Especially thanks to my time working with corpses in the hospital. Every drop of strength matters to me. Well, more or less. By avoiding that kind of fight, I figure I'm cutting away way more than just one "drop" of strength.

And anyway, you have to start small.

It's not like they'd send me out to eliminate, say… the Mizukage as my very first mission, right? Doubt it. But I was hoping to squeeze at least a C‑rank out of him.

With those thoughts in mind, I walked into the Hokage's residence.

---

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[Lillie Jones]

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