Ring! Ring! Ring!
A dull thud silenced the alarm clock on the nightstand. The phosphorescent hands marked four-thirty in the morning.
Naruto got up with the heaviness typical of interrupted sleep, dragging his legs to the bathroom, where ice-cold water on his face was his only comfort to wake himself up. Looking up, he noticed the reflection in the mirror was different. The childish roundness of his cheeks was beginning to yield, revealing sharper angles, and his height had gained a few centimeters—imperceptible to anyone but him.
He brushed his teeth mechanically and grabbed a granola bar for the road. Before leaving, he adjusted his new weapon pouch on his waist and the kunai holster on his right leg. They weren't brand name or bought in an official store; Maruboshi had taught him to sew them with leather scraps and sturdy thread.
"Don't spend on what you can make yourself," the old man had told him. "But when you become a Genin, invest in quality. Your life may depend on your equipment."
Upon opening the door, the icy morning air hit him full force. The sun barely hinted at its presence on the horizon. In his previous life, he considered himself an early riser, but it never would have occurred to him that five in the morning would become part of his daily routine.
He walked at a steady pace toward the clearing. His feet knew the way by heart, naturally dodging dark alleys and dangerous areas. His apartment, located dangerously close to the village's Red Light District, required him to be alert even before dawn.
Upon arrival, he saw the motionless silhouette of his master. Two months had passed since they started training, and to his frustration, Naruto still hadn't managed to arrive before him. The old shinobi was carving a piece of wood; his dexterity was evident even when performing mundane tasks.
Seeing him arrive, Maruboshi greeted him with a warm smile, and they quickly began the routine. Unlike the old man's usual warmth, he became a dictator when it came to training. Whenever the session ended, Naruto ended up discovering muscles he didn't know he had due to the pain. But he didn't plan on complaining; his progress had been exponential since they started.
Thud!
He was practicing his kata against a log; his posture and breathing were much better than a few months ago. While he tried to concentrate, Maruboshi asked him questions about politics and combat tactics:
"You and your squad are on a mission to capture a missing-nin. You are pursuing him, but he is about to cross the country's border. What would you do?"
He took a moment to think; that was a question encompassing the geopolitics of nations.
"It depends on whether we have treaties with the corresponding country. If it were the Land of Hot Water, Grass, Rivers, Noodles, or Tea, I would continue the mission."
"And in case we don't have treaties?" Maruboshi asked.
"I would try to assassinate him before he crosses. It's better for him to be dead before he sells our country's secrets," he replied with determination.
Maruboshi had entrusted him to study non-shinobi subjects on his own. They had limited time to meet and couldn't afford to waste it.
They finished training around eight in the morning. Naruto had to run back at full speed to his apartment to shower, change, and pack his lunch for the Academy. He didn't like the fact that his routine forced him to use three changes of clothes: the first to train with Maruboshi; the second so as not to smell of sweat and dirt during classes; and, after training in the afternoon with those same clothes, a third to avoid dirtying his apartment. Not having a washing machine, he had to wash everything by hand. It was tedious; he could take them to a laundromat, but every ryo counted.
He entered the classroom as usual and sat in his usual spot. He didn't bother taking out books to study; today they were doing combat and weapons practice.
Sometimes Ino sat next to him, and they teased each other. It wasn't the most useful way to pass the time, but he didn't care. He had no friends in this world, and he found it refreshing to have those strange moments where he could chuckle quietly. Also, he had learned a few things about the previous owner of this body. He wasn't exactly like the original Naruto Uzumaki, but he had his similarities. The boy had a sort of crush on Sakura, adored ramen, and could be somewhat of a prankster.
His gaze drifted toward a red-haired girl. He hadn't been able to find out much about the Jinchūriki, only gathering some general traits. She was a cheerful and loud-mouthed person, but too stubborn and aggressive when angered. On one occasion, she had beaten Kiba to a pulp because he mocked her red hair; he had to make a considerable effort not to laugh out loud. Plus, she had the same verbal tic as Naruto Uzumaki.
She didn't just share that; they also had the same goal: to become Hokage. Naruto believed this was due to the Third Hokage's influence: a Jinchūriki had to be loyal to the village, despite how badly they were treated.
As usual, Iruka appeared in the middle of the room and summoned them to the training ground. They did their standard warm-up routine, followed by weapons handling practice, in which now at least he hit the target; he was still incapable of hitting the center, but it had been a substantial improvement.
Finally, the worst moment of his week had arrived: combat practice. It didn't matter if they were clan members, children of shinobi, or civilians; without exception, everyone beat him up when it came to fighting. Maruboshi had described that shinobi combat was based on instincts perfected through practice. While the body moved out of habit, the mind had to analyze and plan according to the opponent faced. Naruto still had to constantly think about his stance and hadn't gotten used to combat yet, while his classmates took it naturally.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Iruka call his name:
"Naruto and Takeru!"
Naruto stood up reluctantly from the circle. Whenever he faced clan members in combat, he usually suffered a total defeat. Students who were children of shinobi were also vastly superior to their civilian-born classmates.
He saw Takeru stand at the other end of the circle; he had been sitting next to Sasuke. He had learned that Takeru was the closest thing to a friend for Sasuke, likely because both boys lived together since the Uchiha Clan Massacre. Ino had explained to him that the Fuma were a clan allied with the Uchiha; when the massacre occurred, several of the Uchiha's businesses and lands were entrusted to the Fuma Clan. One could say the Fuma benefited most from the tragedy.
Both boys stood facing each other in the arena circle. Naruto analyzed his classmate: he was slightly taller than him, had black hair with bangs, and his features were rounded. He was frowning and seemed to consider this a waste of time.
Simultaneously, both raised their right hands to make the Seal of Confrontation, and without waiting, Iruka declared:
"Begin!"
The first thing Naruto did was jump back to create distance, since many of his classmates wanted to end things quickly. In this case, it turned out to be the right move, as he saw a spinning kick from Takeru hit the air where he had been less than a second ago.
Normally he would pull out his kunai to generate caution and fear, but he didn't plan on being the one to unleash weapon usage in this fight. The Fuma are renowned for being experts in weapons handling, especially the Fuma Shuriken.
Just as he expected, his opponent, maintaining his pride, limited himself to hand-to-hand combat. Naruto could see Takeru approaching him as if in slow motion.
He took the initial stance of the Leaf Kata, recalling Maruboshi's advice as quickly as possible. Takeru started with a punch toward Naruto's face, but it was intercepted by an arm. Seeing a tiny opportunity, Naruto threw his own punch, but it only met air. Takeru had jumped back and seemed to be taking the fight more seriously. It wasn't good that his gaze seemed so focused; he knew he wouldn't have any chance of winning if Takeru was completely focused, so he said:
"What's wrong, Takeru! I didn't think Sasuke's guard dog would chicken out so easily!"
Takeru's eyes widened in surprise only for them to narrow a second later. The composed posture he held a moment ago vanished, and he lunged in Naruto's direction, red with rage.
It was exactly what Naruto expected; a calm Takeru was dangerous, but an angry one was much more predictable.
He dodged Takeru's blows by a few centimeters, trying to keep the distance between them minimal, looking for an opening. However, he ended up cornered against the arena line. Takeru had him where he wanted him and knew he wasn't going to get away easily. He saw Takeru winding up a punch looking to cause as much damage as possible, but unexpectedly, Naruto threw his own punch, shortening the distance to Takeru's fist.
He knew he couldn't dodge the blow, but he could reduce the damage.
Takeru's punch was the first to impact; Naruto could feel it sinking into his face. Though it wasn't as painful as Kiba's punches. Ignoring the pain, Naruto continued with the trajectory of his fist, striking directly against Takeru's jaw.
The boy, caught off guard, stumbled back; obviously, he didn't expect him to take the hit without hesitation. And for the first time in the entire fight, he saw Takeru's gaze change. It didn't show superiority like moments ago; it showed a slight hint of recognition.
He took a completely different stance from the one he had at the start of the fight, and the next thing Naruto knew, he was back in the Academy infirmary. Takeru had defeated him completely; he didn't have even a minimal chance to land another hit.