Evening: Kenjutsu Training
[Scene: Day 3 – The Blade Finds Its Weight]
Naruto stood alone in the clearing, holding a dull wooden practice sword, slightly heavier than standard.
He had borrowed it from a weapons rack behind the academy, ignored and dusty. No one noticed.
"No one ever taught me kenjutsu. So I'll teach myself."
He mimicked what little he remembered from academy demonstrations: stances, swings, guards. His movements were stiff, off-balance.
The sword didn't feel like a part of him—it felt like dead weight.
So he made clones. Ten of them. Each tasked with different drills: wide slashes, thrusts, kata flow, grip testing, shadow sparring.
One clone balanced the blade on two fingers, to find its center of gravity.
Another ran through exaggerated movements in slow motion, eyes tracking posture.
Naruto watched, copied, failed, and tried again.
By sunset, his hands were blistered.
But his grip was firmer.
The sword felt… less foreign.
[Scene: Day 4 – Imitation and Frustration]
That morning, one clone was dispatched to secretly observe a group of older genin sparring with bokken at Training Ground 12.
They were fast. Clean. Disciplined.
Their blades flowed like water—deflect, parry, counter, pivot.
Naruto's clone memorized their footwork, angles, rhythm.
Back at the clearing, he and the others replayed it.
"Step back on the deflection: twist with the block, keep the edge aligned."
He couldn't get it right. Not at first.
The wooden blade wobbled in his grip every time he clashed with a clone. His blocks were late. His strikes too slow or too wide.
He cursed. Loudly.
But he didn't stop.
By night, two clones broke down every movement into a diagram with chalk on bark.
Each figure showed a correction: elbow angle, foot placement, shoulder tension.
He studied them under fading light.
"This is how you fight with a blade. Not swinging like a fool."
[Scene: Day 5 – The Blade is a Limb]
Today's focus: integration.
The sword wasn't just a tool now—it had to become an extension.
He tied a cloth around his off-hand, limiting his movement. The sword had to do the talking.
He ran basic taijutsu routines, but replaced punches with blade arcs.
Slashes had to flow like jabs.
Thrusts had to follow foot pivots.
He used his clones not just to spar, but to give him feedback:
"You drop your guard after every swing."
"You're over committing—pull the elbow in."
One clone fought him with a shorter blade, forcing Naruto to adjust reach and timing.
He began to understand something:
Kenjutsu wasn't about strength. It was about pressure. Distance. Control.
By evening, he could land three clean strikes in a spar before getting disarmed.
Not perfect. But better.
His body moved more naturally with the sword now.
It no longer dragged behind him.
[Scene: Day 6 – Refinement and Flow]
Today's drills were silent.
Naruto moved with his blade through a kata under the sunrise. One breath per movement.
Clones mirrored him perfectly—twelve swords in sync.
Step. Draw. Slash. Recover. Pivot. Guard.
No talking. Just rhythm.
At the end of training, he began mixing kenjutsu into taijutsu spars. Clones attacked him with punches and kicks, while he responded with parries, blade taps, and angled strikes.
He wasn't just reacting anymore—he was adapting.
Feinting a slash to draw a kick. Twisting his torso to redirect momentum. Using the flat of the blade for control.
"The sword isn't just for killing." he thought. "It's for control. For direction."
When the last clone poofed, Naruto stood panting, arms shaking, sword still raised.
He looked down at the wooden blade, chipped and worn from hours of practice.
Then he smiled faintly.
"Still rough. But it's mine now."
Night Studies: History, Geography & Shinobi Tactics
[Scene: Night 3 – Dusty Scrolls and Forgotten Lessons]
The small apartment was silent, save for the soft rustle of parchment.
Naruto sat at his desk, a candle burning low, casting flickering shadows over a spread of old academy scrolls he'd "borrowed" earlier that day.
Most were covered in dust.
He opened the first: The Founding of the Hidden Villages.
"Uzumaki were seal masters… allied with the Senju…"
He squinted, reading slowly, lips moving. His writing was messy, but the notes began to fill the margins of an old math notebook.
He learned of the Warring States Period. Of clans who once fought endlessly. Of how Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha united—then fell apart.
Naruto paused.
"Madara... traitor. Or visionary?"
He didn't know yet. But he wrote the question down anyway.
That night, he slept late, mind swimming in stories no one ever taught him.
[Scene: Night 4 – Maps and Borders]
The table was cleared. A worn-out map of the Elemental Nations stretched across it, weighed down by kunai on each corner.
One clone circled key landmarks in red—Hidden Villages, mountain passes, great rivers.
Another labeled trade routes, border zones, known battlegrounds.
Naruto traced the distance between Konoha and the Land of Waves with his finger.
"A shinobi's strength means nothing if they don't know where they stand."
He learned which countries bordered Fire, which allies were unreliable, and where old wars had stained the land.
There were chokepoints: supply lines., natural ambush zones.
He began to see the world not as a mess of places—but as a board. A living battlefield.
By midnight, he could redraw the Fire Country's southern border from memory.
He didn't stop.
[Scene: Night 5– Tactics of War and Shadows]
Scroll: "Shinobi Tactics – Foundational Doctrines"
Clone: "Read aloud. I'll take notes."
Another clone: "I'll test scenarios."
The room echoed with quiet voices as Naruto absorbed teachings he'd never heard in class.
"Avoid conflict where victory is uncertain."
"Ambush is the art of time and terrain."
"A lone ninja cannot win a war—but they can end one."
He read about pincer formations, bait strategies, false retreats, misinformation tactics.
He studied how shinobi squads functioned—how medics, trackers, and assault types formed synergy.
He realized how many missions went wrong because of poor planning, or overconfidence.
Then he wrote in his journal:
"I want power—but I need intelligence to use it."
At dawn, he tested his own ambush layout using five clones and a drawn map of the forest. Two clones "died" three succeeded.
"Needs better fallback timing," he muttered, adjusting the markers.
[Scene: Night 6 – Shadows of the Past, Lessons for the Future]
Final scroll of the set: "The Third War: Losses and Legacy"
Names.
Hundreds of them.
Shinobi who had died in missions, battles, ambushes.
Naruto read them all.
He didn't know most. But every name was followed by a rank, a cause of death, and a mission classification.
He saw a pattern—many genin died on C-rank missions that turned A-rank. Poor intel. Poor prep.
"The village protects its secrets. Not its soldiers," one clone whispered.
Naruto stared at the word: expendable.
He let that sink in.
Then he closed the scroll and turned to a fresh page in his notebook: "My Mission Doctrine"
He wrote:
1- Always scout. Never assume.
2- Plan with worst-case in mind.
3- A dead hero helps no one.
4- Clones are tools. Use them without ego.
5- Never fight fair unless it's already won.
He looked at his wall, now filled with maps, tactic diagrams, clan names, and battle notes.
His apartment felt smaller.
But his world had grown.