The forests around Konoha swayed with their usual calm, cicadas buzzing in a steady rhythm. Eli Aburame stood on a thick branch overlooking the training grounds, his gaze tracing the movement of clouds above the village. It had been months since he awakened in this strange dual-life—part Aburame child, part reincarnated nineteen-year-old science nerd—and things were finally beginning to feel… aligned.
He exhaled slowly, letting chakra spread evenly through his body.
Or trying to.
"You're fun when you're concentrating," Calyx said, his voice smooth in Eli's mind, like a friend lying on a couch and giving commentary. "Your eyebrows do this little angry wiggle."
Eli snorted. "I don't wiggle."
"You absolutely wiggle," Calyx replied, sounding smug. "Though I'll admit—you're getting better at this 'chakra flow' thing. Less stumbling. Fewer faceplants."
"I faceplanted once," Eli said. "Maybe twice. And we're not talking about that."
A hum of amusement rippled under Eli's skin—Calyx's version of laughter.
The symbiote had adapted fast. Almost too fast. Within weeks of bonding, Calyx could read chakra flow, sense insect communication, and comment on Eli's movements with the expertise of a seasoned coach.
Eli sank into a stance—a hybrid of academy taijutsu, Aburame footwork, and techniques he remembered from watching anime. He inhaled, channeling wind chakra to his legs.
"Okay… three… two—"
He disappeared in a blur.
Leaves exploded behind him as he sprinted through the trees, wind chakra sharpening his movement. His feet barely touched the branches. His insects braced themselves instinctively, tucking under skin and clothing.
You're improving, Calyx observed. Still sloppy on the landing, though.
Eli leapt from a branch, flipped midair, and landed in a low crouch.
"No landing issues here," he said, brushing dirt from his palms.
"You tripped over a root."
"That root attacked me," Eli corrected. "It was hostile."
Calyx responded with a deadpan, "Yes. Very threatening, that plant."
Eli grinned, breath steady despite the workout. "You know, for a creature from another universe, you're really good at sarcasm."
"It's your fault," Calyx replied. "I picked it up from you. Like a bad habit."
Their banter was easy by now. Familiar. Eli couldn't decide whether Calyx felt more like a partner, a friend, or a second voice in his head with better comedic timing.
Either way, it worked.
Eli hopped down from the tree into the quiet clearing near Training Ground Three. It was early—too early for most kids his age—but he liked the stillness. He liked thinking.
And he liked the fact no one here questioned why a six-year-old was flinging shuriken with freakish precision.
He pulled out three shuriken and tested their weight. "Today's goal: consistent perfect rotation, chakra-coated edges, and silent release."
"Scientific approach?" Calyx asked.
"The only approach," Eli said.
He flicked one shuriken forward; it sliced cleanly through the air and embedded itself dead center in the target.
"Ha. Perfect."
"It leaned left," Calyx noted.
"Impossible."
Calyx was silent for a moment. "I can replay your muscle movement if you want."
Eli made a face. "Don't talk like a camera. You're ruining my ego."
The next shuriken left his hand as he exhaled. This one spun tighter, fueled by a whisper of wind chakra. The third followed with lightning chakra, vibrating as it struck with a faint crack.
Eli retrieved them, analyzing the angles, the depth of the hits, the slight vibration in the wood.
Science brain fully activated.
Anime knowledge fully deployed.
Chakra instincts sharpening.
He was six, but he was thinking like someone with nineteen years of calculation behind him.
"If I can combine insect swarms with projectile guidance…" he muttered.
Calyx finished for him, "Then your shuriken could change direction midair."
"Exactly."
"And if you attach chakra threads—"
"Guided attacks."
"And if you annoy your opponent enough—"
"They lose focus and I win," Eli said with a smirk. "Classic strategy."
"You're going to be insufferable in combat," Calyx sighed.
"Absolutely."
After a round of shuriken drills, Eli shifted to chakra control exercises.
He stood atop a large boulder and began weaving chakra beneath his feet, trying to stick to the surface without slipping.
Wind chakra: unstable.
Lightning chakra: too jumpy.
Water chakra: smooth but difficult to anchor.
His feet slid, and he caught himself with a frustrated grunt.
"Still bad at this," he muttered.
"Not bad," Calyx corrected. "Just terrible."
Eli rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the encouragement, coach."
"Anytime."
He tried again, this time focusing on evenly distributing chakra like a web under his soles.
Wind chakra fluttered. Lightning sparked. Water chakra steadied.
He stuck.
Eli grinned. "Ha! See that? Progress."
"I see a child standing on a rock," Calyx said dryly. "Very impressive."
"Hey, let me have this."
"…Fine. Well done, Eli."
The small acknowledgment carried weight. Eli felt his chest loosen a little.
Calyx was sarcastic, sure, but he wasn't cold. He cared. In his alien, logical, slightly snarky way—he cared.
Hours later, Eli returned to his hidden lab beneath the house. It was dim, smelled faintly of ink and wood oil, and had an entire wall coated with hand-drawn diagrams.
He knelt in front of a scroll showing chakra flow pathways across the body.
"I gotta map how to merge wind and lightning better," he murmured. "It's possible. Naruto did it later. Kakashi too. And Obito—"
He paused.
The timeline hit him again.
Kakashi Hatake, Obito Uchiha, Rin Nohara.
His generation.
He'd grow up beside them, train beside them, possibly—even inevitably—fight beside them.
Calyx felt the shift in his mood. "Thinking too far ahead again?"
"Yeah," Eli admitted softly. "Their lives… things get bad later. I know it. I've seen it. I don't know if I can change it, but—"
"You'll try," Calyx said.
Eli blinked. "That obvious?"
"You're loud when you care."
"…Thanks, I think?"
"Not a compliment. Just an observation."
Eli chuckled. "You're the worst."
"I'm the best thing that's happened to your survival rate."
Eli couldn't deny that. Not even a little.
He spent another hour studying elemental interactions, sketching hypotheses on jutsu combos, and planning how to reach genin level before even stepping into the Academy.
Then his stomach growled.
Loudly.
Calyx sighed. "This again."
"I'm a growing boy," Eli defended.
"You're a bottomless pit."
"Well, let's feed the pit."
He climbed out of the lab, dusting himself off, and headed toward Ichiraku Ramen. A few coins were in his pocket—some he'd found, some earned doing tiny errands around the village.
The smell hit him instantly.
Warm broth. Fresh noodles. Fried toppings.
Teuchi waved. "Ah! Welcome! Hungry?"
"Starving," Eli said.
"You're always starving," Calyx whispered.
Eli ignored him.
Sitting at the counter, Eli took his first bite and felt warmth spread through him. A simple thing—but grounding. Reminding him he wasn't alone in this crazy world, no matter how complicated his life became.
Calyx spoke quietly, softer than usual. "We'll figure it all out, Eli. You know that, right?"
Eli smiled behind his chopsticks. "Yeah. We will."