Yuji's POV
A knock shattered the silence.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three sharp raps—firm, precise. No hesitation. No patience. Then Haruki's voice cut through the stillness:
"Up. It's four."
I groaned, rolling over in the unfamiliar bed. For a moment, I forgot where I was. The stiffness in my limbs, the scent of old wood, the distant hum of cicadas—it all came rushing back.
Right. New life. New hell.
Dragging myself out of bed, I winced as sore muscles protested. The clothes I put on—fresh, rough cotton—felt like armor against a world I wasn't ready for. By the time I made it downstairs, Haruki was already waiting, unimpressed.
"You are late by two minutes" he asked, one eyebrow raised.
" sorry" I muttered.
" Don't be sorry, be better"
Outside, the sky was still cloaked in navy and fading stars. The air was crisp, tinged with damp earth and dew. Mist curled low over the grass in Haruki's yard, veiling the jagged rocks and worn-down training posts.
"This place is yours now," he said, stepping into the clearing like a general entering a battlefield. "And this morning, it's going to break you."
He didn't wait for questions.
"Stamina run. From here to the eastern watchtower and back. No walking. No stops. Slow down, and we start again."
I opened my mouth to protest—but one look from him shut that down fast.
Okay. I wanted to be strong, right?
I ran.
The village was silent, the stone roads slick with morning dew. My breath came in sharp bursts, fogging the air. My legs burned halfway through, and my lungs screamed. I'd jogged before—in gyms, on treadmills—but this? This was something else. The terrain was uneven, the chill biting, every step dragging me deeper into fatigue.
By the time I stumbled back into the yard, I collapsed to my knees, panting like a dying animal.
Haruki didn't even blink. "Barely ten minutes. Your heart's weak."
"So's the rest of me," I wheezed.
"Then we fix it."
What followed wasn't training. It was a siege.
Push-ups on uneven stone until my arms shook. Kicks against tree trunks until I couldn't feel my legs. Balance drills on narrow stumps that tested my core more than any gym ever had. Haruki didn't shout. He didn't motivate. He just watched—corrected. No wasted words, no coddling.
"Focus," he snapped when I slipped off a post. "A shinobi doesn't flinch. Your body obeys your mind. But your mind's still whining."
Eventually, thoughts stopped forming. There was only movement. Pain. Breath.
Push. Fall. Rise. Repeat.
When we finally stopped, the sun had climbed high. I collapsed into the grass, soaked in sweat and trembling all over.
Haruki handed me a canteen. "Didn't throw up. That's something."
"Too tired to puke," I mumbled between gulps.
He sat beside me, silent for a time. The stillness was grounding.
"You've got potential," he said at last. "But hesitation will get you killed. You second-guess too much."
He wasn't wrong. I stayed quiet.
"People like us—we're either sharpening ourselves, or letting the world dull us. You want to stay soft, go back to the orphanage. But if you're ready to break, bend, and come back stronger—then stay."
"I'm staying," I said before I could stop myself.
He didn't smile, but his nod was its own kind of approval.
"You're not here to impress me, Yuji. You're here to find out what you're made of. I can't teach you that. But I'll push you until you see it yourself."
Being trained by a jōnin… it was no small thing. From what I remembered, jōnin were elite—treasured in the village. To be trained by one personally? It was like getting a glimpse into a world I didn't belong to.
But this wasn't a story. This was my reality now. And who knew if it even followed the same rules as the Naruto I remembered? Was this the same world—or just something eerily similar?
So many questions. But none I could do anything about today.
I leaned back on my elbows, letting his words settle. My body ached, but deep beneath the exhaustion, something else stirred.
Pride.
The pride of not giving up.
"Go get cleaned up. Breakfast will be ready soon," Haruki said, already turning back toward the house.
Finally. A break.
I lay on the grass a little longer before dragging myself toward my room. Thankfully, the washroom was attached. As the water hit my skin, washing away the sweat and grime, it felt like the best thing in the world.
By the time I came downstairs, dressed in fresh clothes and still aching from head to toe, I couldn't stop the small smile tugging at my lips.
I had earned this.
Haruki was already eating when I sat down.
"You enjoy long baths, don't you?" he said flatly.
"I guess."
"Took you thirty-two minutes. Could've done it in five."
"You're really keeping track?" I asked, blinking.
"A shinobi's time is his sharpest weapon." He took another bite, then added, "You're not exactly a social person, are you?"
It was hard to argue that.
"That's been said… more than once."
"People say I'm blunt," he said. "But I just speak the truth."
"Where's my breakfast?" I asked, a little too hopeful.
He didn't even look up. "Make it yourself. You'll need to learn self-reliance sooner or later."
Of course. Classic Haruki.
I sighed and got up. Thankfully, I'd learned to cook back in my old life. Living alone for years had at least prepared me for that much. I made something simple, filling, and satisfying. After eating, I felt… almost human again.
"You're a decent cook," Haruki said, washing out his cup. "From now on, you'll make breakfast for both of us."
"Are you just taking advantage of me, Uncle?"
"Nope. I'm teaching you how to live."
Annoying… but not wrong.
"Well, if you've eaten, let's move," he said, heading back outside. "Training's not over."
"More physical drills?" I groaned.
"No. Pushing your body past its limit too often will only set us back. Today, we start chakra training."
That got my attention.
"I know the basics," I said. "It's a mix of physical and spiritual energy. You use it to perform ninjutsu."
"Not bad," Haruki nodded. "Chakra is born when two primary energies—your physical stamina and spiritual power—are molded together. Physical energy comes from the body, and grows with training. Spiritual energy comes from the mind—shaped by study, experience, and meditation."
He crouched, drawing a circle in the dirt.
"Push your body, your physical energy increases. Challenge your mind, your spiritual energy grows. The stronger both are, the more chakra you can produce."
"So the more hardship I face, the more my chakra improves?"
"In a way, yes. Especially near-death experiences—they spike spiritual growth. But don't go chasing death. Only one person walks away from those fights. And sometimes, it's not you."
I swallowed hard. He wasn't sugarcoating anything.
"I adopted you," he added, "partly because you're a coward."
Wow. Thanks, Uncle.
"You're sensitive. Fearful. Socializing drains you. But when you do it anyway? That effort—it feeds your spirit."
I blinked. Wait. Was… was my anxiety actually helping me here?
"Spiritual energy is strengthened by doing what feels impossible. For someone like you, just talking to people is a battle. You've likely got a higher spiritual reserve than most kids your age—and that's part of the problem."
"Problem?"
"Your spiritual energy's outpacing your physical energy. That imbalance is choking your chakra flow. Too much spiritual energy with too little physical stamina makes regeneration sluggish and your chakra pool unstable."
"So… I just need to build my body to match it?"
"Exactly. Physical training under guidance will correct the imbalance. Once you're synced, chakra control will come easier."
I nodded slowly. That actually made a lot of sense.
"Alright. I'll do it," I said. "I'll build up."
If i want to survive I will have to do better
"Good," Haruki said, stepping into the yard once more. "Now, let's begin your chakra training."