The grove behind the Yuhi residence was quiet except for the soft thunk of kunai striking wood.
"As a ninja, shuriken and kunai are your most essential tools," Kurenai said, mimicking their academy instructor's measured tone. She held a kunai up to the light, turning it so the blade caught the sun. "Shuriken—meteor darts—are for ranged attacks. Kunai work as both throwing weapons and close-range daggers."
Hanekawa watched from his seat on a nearby log, already knowing where this was going.
Kurenai's hands trembled slightly as she took her stance. She'd only just started at the academy, and throwing techniques were still new to her. More importantly, she didn't want to mess up in front of him.
She's nervous, Hanekawa noted with amusement. Cute.
She released the kunai with a sharp exhale. It spun through the air and struck the wooden target—but off-center, missing the painted bullseye by several inches.
Kurenai's face flushed crimson. She turned to him defensively. "I... I hit the outer ring. That still counts as—"
"Sure it does," Hanekawa said smoothly, suppressing a smile. He'd spent years perfecting his poker face. No way was he laughing at her now.
"Watch this!" Kurenai's jaw set with determination. She grabbed another kunai, took a deep breath, and threw with far more focus.
This time, it hit dead center.
"There!" She couldn't hide her satisfaction, turning to him with a proud smile. "How was that?"
So cute, Hanekawa thought.
"Very impressive," he said honestly.
"Your turn!" Kurenai handed him a kunai, practically vibrating with anticipation.
Hanekawa held his breath, concentrated, and threw.
The kunai sailed past the target entirely and disappeared into the trees beyond.
Kurenai's shoulders relaxed visibly. Good. At least he's not perfect at everything.
"It's normal to be inaccurate at first," she said, already moving to grab another kunai. "Just keep practicing."
For the next hour, Hanekawa threw kunai after kunai. His accuracy didn't improve much—his previous life as a college student hadn't exactly prepared him for precision throwing—but he didn't care. His eyes were on the system notification that had appeared halfway through.
[E-Rank Talent Entry: Ninja Tool Throwing (Not Obtained)]
[Trigger Condition: Reach proficiency with shuriken and kunai throwing]
[Current Progress: 1%]
Progress bar activated. Now we're cooking.
Eventually, exhaustion won out. Hanekawa collapsed onto the grass, breathing hard.
"You're pretty weak," Kurenai observed, sitting down beside him. "I can usually train all morning without getting tired."
"Haven't exercised much before," Hanekawa admitted. It was true enough. His body was still adjusting to being six years old again, and his previous life's sedentary lifestyle hadn't helped. In his old world, running a thousand meters in a fitness test had felt like being punched by a superhero.
But here, physical training was essential. And if the pattern held, pushing his body would trigger new entries.
The sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts.
"Father!" Kurenai jumped up, her face lighting up as Yuhi Shinku appeared with a small bag in hand.
"For you," her father said, handing her a stick of dango—three colored balls of sweet rice cake.
Without hesitation, Kurenai offered it to Hanekawa first.
"Thank you," he said, taking a bite. The sweetness was intense, almost overwhelming. No wonder people get addicted to these.
Shinku glanced at the scattered kunai and wooden targets. "You're both still young. Training is important, but don't overdo it. You have school tomorrow."
School. Hanekawa's mind wandered as he watched Kurenai lick her dango with childish enthusiasm. He was actually looking forward to it. As someone who'd watched the original series, seeing these characters come to life—even as children—was surreal. The main cast hadn't even been born yet, but the supporting characters were here, and he was genuinely curious who he'd meet.
---
The next morning, Hanekawa was already outside practicing kunai throws when Kurenai appeared at her window in white pajamas, her black hair tousled from sleep.
She watched him for a moment, her expression shifting from surprise to something more competitive.
Oh no, Hanekawa thought, recognizing that look. She's feeling the pressure.
"Good morning, Kurenai," he called out, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Kurenai bit her lip, flames practically visible in her eyes. "You can ask me to train with you! I won't let you work hard alone!"
She's worried about being left behind, Hanekawa realized. That's actually kind of sweet.
"No problem," he agreed with a smile.
After breakfast, Shinku handed them both lunch boxes. "Remember to take Hanekawa to see his teacher."
"You already said that yesterday!" Kurenai huffed, but she grabbed the boxes and headed out, Hanekawa following close behind.
As they walked toward the academy, Hanekawa took in the village around him. He'd seen Konoha in anime countless times, but experiencing it in person was entirely different. The buildings had texture, the air had weight, the people moved with purpose.
"Huh?"
A figure on the wall ahead caught his attention. A boy, maybe seven or eight, stood with his arms crossed over his chest, staring up at the sky with an expression of cool indifference. He wore a white sleeveless shirt and had dark hair.
That's... Asuma Sarutobi?
Hanekawa nearly did a double-take. Without the iconic beard he'd have in the future, Asuma looked completely different—just a regular kid trying way too hard to look cool.
Kurenai walked past without even glancing up, but Asuma's eyes snapped down, and he coughed loudly to get her attention.
"Asuma? What are you doing up there?" Kurenai asked, finally noticing him.
Asuma leaped down with exaggerated grace, landing smoothly. His eyes immediately fixed on Hanekawa, and his expression hardened.
"Kurenai, who's this?" he asked, his tone casual but his body language anything but. "I haven't seen him before."
Oh, this is going to be good, Hanekawa thought, barely suppressing a grin.
"He's Hanekawa," Kurenai said simply. "He's transferring to our class today."
"Oh?" Asuma's eyes narrowed slightly. "How do you know him?"
"Because Hanekawa lives with us," Kurenai said matter-of-factly.
Asuma went completely still. His face cycled through several emotions—surprise, confusion, then something that looked suspiciously like heartbreak—before settling into an expression of pure, theatrical anguish.
He slowly raised his hand to his face, covering it like he'd just received devastating news.
He's putting on the mask of pain, Hanekawa realized, fighting back laughter. This kid is actually hilarious.
"...We haven't even held hands yet," Asuma muttered from behind his hand, his voice dripping with melodrama. "How is this fair?"
Kurenai tilted her head, completely missing the subtext. "What are you talking about?"
Hanekawa bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
This is going to be an interesting school year.