That night, Reiji sat alone in the deserted training grounds under the glow of a lone lantern.
He peeled back his shirt, pressing the seal against his skin. It burned briefly, then faded, embedding itself against his torso like a second heartbeat.
The weight came slowly at first.
It felt like someone had draped a heavy blanket across his shoulders. Then another. Then another.
His knees buckled. His arms shook.
Good.
He pushed up from the ground and began his drills. Pushups. Squats. Sprints from one end of the field to the other.
Every step felt like wading through wet sand. Every breath came out ragged.
This is good. This is real.
He pushed until his muscles burned, then kept going. His mind emptied into the rhythm. Movement. Strain. Pain.
By the time he collapsed, chest heaving, the lantern had burned halfway down.
He stared at the stars overhead.
This seal will make me unmovable. And if it breaks me first… so be it.
In the Hokage's office the next morning, Hiruzen sighed as he looked over that pervy ball of his.
"Training late into the night again," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "This boy will either become a great shinobi or a rather morbid decoration on that training ground… ."
One of his advisors scoffed. "He's reckless. Unstable. That seal is wasted on him."
Another grumbled, "Shameless too. No respect for his place."
Hiruzen only smiled faintly. "Perhaps. But I think there's more to him than you see."