Renjiro rose before the sun. After quickly finishing his chores—gathering firewood and fetching water—he made his way to the field hospital, eager to begin sword training with Meri.
To his surprise, she was already there, waiting.
Though Meri had acted reluctant when he first asked her for training, in truth, she'd been looking forward to it. This was her first time teaching anyone, and despite her best efforts to appear indifferent, she was clearly excited.
Their training ground was a small clearing near the hospital. The morning mist clung to the grass as Meri stood in the center, hands on her hips, trying to project the image of a strict instructor. With her short stature and blonde hair, the effect was more adorable than intimidating.
Renjiro found it hard not to laugh.
She caught the expression on his face immediately and puffed up with indignation: "Don't laugh or I'll hit you!"
"I'm not laughing!" Renjiro said quickly, biting back a grin as she raised her training sword in warning.
Satisfied, Meri cleared her throat and launched into her lecture with a serious, almost pompous tone: "The blade is a tool of killing. It's a weapon designed for death. Therefore, the proper method of using a blade is—"
Renjiro listened closely, but it was obvious she was reciting from memory, probably from some introductory training manual. Her stance and phrasing screamed beginner. Still, he didn't mind. Information was information. Whether it came from a master or a textbook, it had value—especially for someone just starting out like him.
Silently, he gave a mental command: "Arkain. Begin recording. Establish a long-term mission titled Swordsmanship. Track and analyze all sword-related training. Log errors and correct them in real-time."
[Beep! Mission Established! Long-term Mission Confirmed... Data Recording Initiated... Simulation Activated.]
"Good." Renjiro nodded, then added a new instruction: "Enable virtual simulation. Connect to the full knowledge database. Using my unique physical and chakra profile, begin constructing the ideal sword style tailored to my parameters."
[Beep! Authorization Granted. Awaiting Full Dataset... Deduction in Progress…]
Renjiro smirked. This was exactly why he didn't care about whether someone handed him a "secret" sword style or not. With Arkain, he could create his own.
"Oh—right." He remembered suddenly. Since he was building new systems anyway, he figured he might as well do the same for Taijutsu.
"Arkain, create another long-term mission: Taijutsu. Monitor and log all physical training. Identify and correct execution errors. Enable simulation, connect to the knowledge base, and begin generating an optimized taijutsu style based on my current data."
[Beep! Mission Established. Database Connected... Deduction Started... Virtual Simulation Launched...]
Unlike with swordsmanship, the Taijutsu data was already well-developed. Arkain immediately began running simulations.
"Perfect." Renjiro murmured, with a satisfied smile appeared on his face.
Now, all he had to do was train—and let the models do the rest.
---
"Hmm? Why did it get quiet all of a sudden?"
Renjiro blinked, snapping out of his internal monologue. The field had gone eerily silent. When he looked up, he was startled to find a small face nearly pressed against his own.
"Whoa—!"
Meri was standing right in front of him, arms crossed tightly, cheeks puffed out in an exaggerated pout. Her porcelain forehead was nearly touching his, and she was glaring at him like a scolding older sister.
"What's wrong?" Renjiro asked, confused.
"Takane Renjiro! Were you even listening to me?!" Meri's voice rose an octave as she stomped her foot. Her face was flushed, lips quivering with indignation. She'd been seriously trying to teach him, and this idiot had the nerve to drift off mid-lecture?
"Of course I was!" Renjiro said quickly—though in truth, he'd been completely focused on configuring Arkain.
There was an ancient law known to all men: admit guilt and suffer, deny and survive. Especially with women, the rule was simple—never argue, just nod and flatter.
Meri wasn't about to let him off that easily. She narrowed her eyes and sneered: "Oh really? Then tell me—what's the technique for executing a proper blade strike?"
Looking at her flushed and angry face, Renjiro felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't meant to upset her. He was just too caught up in optimizing Arkain's settings, excited by the prospect of building the perfect sword style.
Still, there was only one way out now.
He straightened his back and spoke calmly: "The technique of using the sword…"
Then, with perfect clarity, he repeated every word she had said earlier—down to the precise phrasing and textbook rhythm. He even mimicked the posture and subtle movements she'd demonstrated, performing them flawlessly.
Meri stared at him, dumbfounded.
"Ah?!" She gasped, mouth falling open in surprise: "How did you—?! You were spacing out! I saw you!"
Renjiro grinned and said proudly: "Maybe I'm just a genius?"
"Hmph!" Meri crossed her arms again, thoroughly annoyed. She had no evidence to accuse him with—no way to prove he hadn't been paying attention. So, unwillingly, she let it go.
Still, her pride wounded, she made her next instructions noticeably more demanding.
And so began Renjiro's journey into swordsmanship—an experience filled with both pain and progress, laughter and bruises.
---
Another week passed in the blink of an eye.
In that time, Renjiro made remarkable strides in both swordsmanship and Taijutsu. Though still a novice, his foundation had become surprisingly solid. Under Arkain's constant simulations, corrections, and performance reviews, he could now spar with Meri for dozens of exchanges without being immediately overwhelmed.
What he lacked in finesse, he made up for with discipline and adaptation. Every misstep was logged, analyzed, and corrected. Every movement, however small, was refined.
Little by little, Renjiro was turning from an eager amateur into a strong shinobi in the making.
Although it had only been a single week, Renjiro's progress was nothing short of extraordinary.
In terms of swordsmanship, he had nearly caught up to Meri—who had been trained by her father since early childhood.
This alarming rate of improvement left her stunned. In her eyes, Renjiro wasn't just hardworking—he was a genius. Despite starting late, his rapid growth and uncanny adaptability made it feel inevitable that he would surpass her one day.
That realization made Meri deeply envious.
She didn't dislike him—quite the opposite. But watching someone close the gap so quickly, especially when she'd worked so hard over the years, left a strange bitterness in her heart.
Meanwhile, in Taijutsu, the results were just as staggering. Thanks to Arkain's real-time analysis and corrections, Renjiro had identified and eliminated several key weaknesses—flaws in posture, poor stamina control, and inefficient striking forms. His physical techniques became more refined, sharper, faster.
What he achieved in one week of structured feedback and simulation was more than he had managed in a year of self-training.
Renjiro still wasn't quite on par with a Chūnin in a full-on fight—but if he activated Observation Haki and used all his tools effectively, he might hold his own against an average one.
Still, he lacked the escape-oriented fundamentals—like the Flicker Body Technique and Escape Techniques—that were considered the very bedrock of survival for shinobi.
If things went south, he had no clean exit strategy.
But compared to the boy he was just seven days ago, Renjiro felt like an entirely new person.
"Show me the status panel." Renjiro said silently.
---
[Status Panel
Name: Takane Renjiro
Age: 13
Occupation: Ninja / Novelist
Rank: Elite Genin
Skills: Clone Technique, Transformation Technique, Substitution Technique, Escape Technique, Basic Taijutsu, Basic Swordsmanship
Chakra Affinity: Lightning
---
Jumping from a weak, book-loving Genin to an Elite Genin in just one week was an enormous leap—and Renjiro felt the pride of that accomplishment settling into his bones.
He rose early the next morning, intent on treating himself to a proper breakfast at the mess hall.
But as he slid open his door, he froze. Leaning casually against the wooden post outside his room was a familiar figure.
"Zeri-sensei?!" Renjiro blurted out, stunned for a second before a wide grin broke across his face.
Zeri raised a hand in greeting, his usual smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth:
"Yo! Long time no see, Renjiro."
He looked relaxed, the same sharp glint in his eyes, his posture as easy as ever.
Renjiro's joy was immediate—but concern followed close behind: "Zeri-sensei, your injuries… are you alright now?"
Back then, Zeri had taken a brutal hit near his heart. His condition had been critical—so much so that even Renjiro and his team hadn't been allowed to visit him in intensive care. He'd been gone for over two weeks.
Zeri simply straightened and spread his arms:
"I'm fully recovered. See? Good as new."
Just then, the sound of footsteps came from the hallway behind Renjiro. Meri and Maemon had clearly heard his shout.
"It really is Zeri-sensei!"
"You've recovered!"
Their voices were a mix of joy and relief. The three students gathered around their teacher, grinning from ear to ear.
Before long, the group made their way into Renjiro's room, eager to catch up on everything they'd missed. The room quickly filled with laughter, stories, and the warmth of reunion.
For the first time in a while, things felt light.