The first rays of morning sunlight crept over the horizon, washing the Hidden Leaf Village in soft golden light. Dew still clung to the grass as a light breeze rustled through the trees. The world was quiet, the kind of quiet that only existed in the earliest hours of the day. Perfect for training.
Yuki Kazanari stood at the edge of a large, empty field just beyond the academy walls. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the crisp morning air bite against his skin. His pale blue hair glistened faintly with sweat from the short jog he'd done to warm up. He had been here since before dawn. Waiting.
Soon enough, he saw a figure approach from the distance, dragging his feet, yawning despite the early hour. Tokasu Nara, clad in black, looked like he hadn't slept well—again.
"You're late," Yuki said simply, not bothering to hide his smirk.
"You're insane," Tokasu replied, voice still thick with sleep. "It's not even six. Who even trains at this hour?"
"The ones who want to win," Yuki said, already beginning a set of push-ups.
With a sigh, Tokasu dropped into position beside him. They began with the basics—push-ups, sit-ups, squats, pull-ups on a low-hanging tree branch nearby. Nothing fancy. Just raw effort.
Minutes turned to an hour. Sweat beaded on their foreheads. The morning sun climbed higher.
Tokasu collapsed onto his back, panting. "I'm dying. Just bury me here."
Yuki didn't even glance over. He was still running laps around the field, his breathing measured, controlled. Thirty minutes passed before Tokasu stirred again, groaning as he sat up.
"You're... still going?" he asked.
Yuki finished his lap and jogged over, tossing him a bottle of water.
"You need to build endurance," Yuki said, crouching beside him. "You held out longer than I expected, though."
Tokasu accepted the bottle with a grunt and took a long drink. "You're a machine."
"No. Just consistent."
They rested briefly before moving on to chakra control exercises. The pair stood side-by-side, small leaves pressed to their foreheads with nothing but chakra. The objective: hold the leaf perfectly still without letting it fall or ripple. It was harder than it looked.
"Focus your chakra evenly," Yuki instructed. "Too much in one spot, and the leaf will twitch."
Tokasu adjusted his flow slightly. The leaf stabilized.
After several minutes, they shifted to walking across a shallow stream that ran near the field—maintaining chakra flow to the soles of their feet as they crossed the surface.
Yuki moved ahead effortlessly, but Tokasu wasn't far behind. He stumbled a few times, but always recovered.
"Your control is good," Yuki said, nodding.
"It better be," Tokasu replied. "My clan's entire style depends on precision."
Next came climbing a tree using only chakra on their feet. They scaled it quickly, racing to the top, pausing upside-down from branches.
"I can tell you've been training," Yuki said.
"So have you," Tokasu muttered. "You're scary-good at this."
After descending, they sat on a low stump to rest, watching the leaves sway above.
"Hey, Yuki," Tokasu said, his tone thoughtful. "How did you raise your chakra reserves, anyway? I get control, but... the actual volume. How did you increase it by so much?"
Yuki raised an eyebrow. "Why, planning to bulk up your reserves?"
"Knowledge is power," Tokasu muttered. "Also, yes."
Yuki laughed. "Alright, give me the Nara explanation first."
Tokasu sat straighter, adopting a mock-serious tone. "Chakra reserve growth is a biological and spiritual interplay. You have to steadily overuse your chakra capacity just below the burnout threshold, stimulate cellular memory, and allow your body to adapt over time. Pair that with targeted rest and chakra reabsorption, and you'll gradually increase your core pool."
Yuki blinked. "You know, you make everything sound like a science project."
"It basically is."
"Well, here's my method," Yuki said, grinning. "Use all your chakra. Run it to zero. Rest. Recover. Then do it again. Over and over. Until your body doesn't break anymore. Then do it some more."
Tokasu stared at him. "That's... barbaric."
"Effective," Yuki replied. "It's what I've been doing for years."
Tokasu was quiet for a moment. Then something shifted in his expression. Realization.
"That's why you're strong, isn't it? It's not just talent. You've been grinding yourself to dust, over and over again."
Yuki didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Tokasu looked down at his hand, clenching it slowly into a fist. He felt his calluses, and the ache in his limbs.
"Then I'll do the same," he said. His voice was quiet, but steady. "No more half-effort. No more excuses. Next time we train... go even harder."
He raised his fist to eye level, tightening it until his knuckles went white.
And for a brief second, an image flickered in his mind—his parents, standing proudly.
He would become someone worthy of their pride.
Even if it killed him.