A few quiet days had passed since my meeting with the Hokage. Without classes, and with the tournament behind me, I found myself falling into a rhythm—one defined by relentless training, heavy meals, and occasional silent moments of reflection.
The fire inside me hadn't died down. If anything, it burned brighter.
Mornings started early. Physical drills. Chakra flow exercises. Precision sword work until my arms trembled. But even as I honed my body, a part of me remained fixated on the one thing that no amount of physical training could change: the system.
By now, I had a firm grasp of what it was—and more importantly, what it wasn't.
This wasn't some overpowered RPG-like interface where quests flooded my screen and skill points dropped into my lap for breathing correctly. There were no random drops, no stat boosts, and definitely no cheat codes.
It was… something else. Something quieter. A tracker, a ledger, a kind of mental companion that catalogued my growth with meticulous detail.
Sitting cross-legged on my futon, I mentally summoned the interface. The familiar translucent window appeared before me, its content simple but significant.
Name: Yuki Kazanari
Age: 9
Kekkei Genkai: Frostfire
Chakra Natures: Fire, Water
Jutsu List:
Flying Raijin (Proficiency: 100%)
Body Flicker (Proficiency: 43%)
Frost Creation (Proficiency: 37%)
Fireball Jutsu (Proficiency: 34%)
Substitution, Transformation, Clone (< 25%)
The chakra nature section had recently updated—"Water" now listed beneath "Fire." I couldn't use any water-style jutsu yet, but I could feel its presence, subtly intertwined with the cold component of Frostfire. It wasn't hard to guess that water was the base element fueling the frost aspect.
But the true strength of the system lay not in its ability to list my techniques… but in what happened after a jutsu was fully learned.
Once I'd committed a technique to memory—the chakra control, the hand signs, the proper rhythm—the system recorded it. From that moment on, using the technique became instinctual. Automatic.
If I wanted to launch a Fireball Jutsu, I didn't need to string together hand signs like a normal shinobi. I didn't even need to focus on my chakra. I just had to will it.
Of course, I still went through the motions, for one I didn't want to rely on the system too much and I genuinely wanted to earn my own power. But also to keep the ability hidden. No sense drawing attention. But having that safety net—the ability to cast instantly if needed—was invaluable. Especially for jutsu like Flying Raijin.
The knock on the door caught me mid-thought.
"Yuki! You in there?"
Tokasu.
I blinked, sighed, and stood. Brushed myself off. Opened the door.
There he was, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed—dark eyes half-lidded, hair messier than usual.
"Hey Tokasu… sorry. Zoned out. Come in."
He stepped in like he owned the place and flopped down onto the floor mat.
I turned toward the kitchen nook and reheated the ramen I had picked up from Ichiraku earlier. A familiar aroma filled the apartment.
"Smells good," he muttered.
"Don't butter me up," I replied. "You're here about the deal."
He didn't deny it. Just nodded lazily.
The agreement had been made shortly after the tournament. Tokasu, being smart enough to recognize his own flaws, knew his lack of close-quarters ability had nearly cost him his top 3 spot. So he turned to me.
In exchange for helping him train—physical conditioning, chakra reserve, and most importantly, kenjutsu—he would do something equally valuable for me.
Tokasu knew the deal leaned heavily in his favor—even if he pretended it was fair, he understood he'd owe me for it. Not that I minded. If anything, I intended to come out ahead.
Because what Tokasu didn't know—or at least hadn't realized—was how much I stood to gain.
I stirred the ramen, pretending not to think too hard.
Shadow Clone Jutsu.
It was a given that he'd learn it during the next academic year. The Nara clan had access to elite material, and Tokasu's chakra control was among the best in our class.
I planned to use the debt to copy it the moment I had the chance.
Not to spam clones like Naruto did—but to apply it tactically.
A shadow clone combined with the transformation jutsu—disguised as a bird or small animal—could scout terrain for miles. Once dismissed, I'd instantly receive everything it had seen or heard. Infiltration. Recon. Surveillance. I'd have eyes everywhere.
But it wasn't just about strategy. I'd always admired Itachi and his crows—how they moved like extensions of his will, silent and watchful. I wanted that. My own flock. A symbol and a weapon. I had also devised a devious usage of the birds, by marking each with a seal and spamming flying raijin it would be a super jutsu combination that I hoped could defeat most enemies. A last ditch effort.
And in battle? A clone feint layered with my swordplay and body flicker could dismantle even the strongest defenses.
"So," Tokasu said between mouthfuls of ramen, "training tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Be ready."
He squinted at me. "And you're still holding up your end of the deal?"
"Naturally," I replied with a smirk. "And you'll be writing my history essays. No loopholes."
"Tch. Yeah yeah... such a drag."
"You know," I said, grinning, "for someone who complains so much, you sure signed that contract fast. Must've been desperation."
He rolled his eyes but didn't argue.
"You're lucky I owe you."
I didn't say it aloud, but that was exactly the point. He did owe me.
And that favor would be worth more than any homework assignment.