The morning theory class dragged on as expected. Hanekawa spent most of it mentally cataloging which entries he still needed, only half-listening to the instructor drone on about chakra theory he'd already mastered years ago.
When the bell finally rang, he perked up. Ninja tool throwing class—now that was something worth paying attention to.
Eiichiro led the class to the training ground, where wooden targets had been arranged in neat rows. The lesson split into two parts: theory first, then practice. Hanekawa listened intently, taking mental notes. Every new skill was a potential entry, and entries meant power. Simple as that.
Asuma Sarutobi, meanwhile, looked bored out of his mind. As the Hokage's son with a special jonin tutor, he'd already mastered this stuff. He lounged against a post with the confidence of someone who'd never lost at anything in his life.
That confidence lasted until Kurenai walked over and stood next to Hanekawa instead of him.
Hanekawa watched Asuma's expression shift from smug to confused to furious in about three seconds. Oh no. I know that look. It was the look of a six-year-old whose entire worldview had just been shaken. This is going to be a problem.
Asuma's eyes narrowed. Then, like a lightbulb going off, his expression cleared. A plan had formed. Hanekawa could practically see it happening.
Great. What now?
"Now we'll begin practice," Eiichiro announced, setting out a fresh row of wooden stakes. "I'll provide feedback as needed."
"Teacher, I'll go first!" Asuma shot to his feet, his voice loud and confident. He threw a meaningful look at Kurenai—the kind that screamed watch this.
Kurenai didn't notice. She was too busy whispering something to Hanekawa.
Oof. That's gotta sting.
Asuma threw his three kunai in rapid succession. Thunk, thunk, thunk. All three hit dead center. He spun around, expecting admiration, only to find Kurenai still focused entirely on Hanekawa.
"Excellent form," Eiichiro said, leading a polite round of applause.
Asuma's jaw tightened. The applause meant nothing if nobody was watching.
"Thanks for the tip," Hanekawa said to Kurenai, picking up a kunai.
He threw it using her technique. The kunai struck the target, but nowhere near the bullseye. It was a mediocre throw—exactly what you'd expect from someone who'd been training for less than two days.
"That's it?" Asuma couldn't help himself.
"Come on!" Kurenai clenched her fist, cheering him on.
Asuma looked like he might actually explode.
---
By the end of class, Hanekawa's Ninja Tool Throwing entry had progressed to 10%. E-Rank complete. Not bad for a morning's work.
He was packing up when a green blur rocketed past his head.
"Kakashi! Let's have a duel of youth!"
Hanekawa looked up to see Might Guy striking an absurdly heroic pose. The man was a living anime protagonist—all passion and ridiculous determination. In the original timeline, he'd literally kicked his way through the final war with the Eight Gates. Now, at six years old, he was already insufferable.
Kakashi teleported away without a word.
Guy's eyes lit up as he spotted Hanekawa. "You're worthy of being my lifelong rival!"
Absolutely not. Hanekawa had no intention of becoming Guy's training partner. The man's idea of exercise would kill a normal person, and Hanekawa was only mostly superhuman.
He was saved from having to respond when Asuma stepped directly into his path.
"Hanekawa. I challenge you to a duel."
Kurenai's eyes widened. "Asuma, that's not fair. He just started training."
"I'll wait," Asuma said quickly, realizing his mistake. "Until the end of the semester. Three months."
Hanekawa considered this. Three months was plenty of time to close the gap—especially with Tsunade's training and the Ability System. More importantly, Asuma made a decent benchmark. He was a normal genius, the kind of baseline Hanekawa could measure himself against.
"Deal," Hanekawa said.
Asuma's face lit up. He didn't notice Kurenai's expression shift from worry to something colder.
---
That evening, after dinner, Hanekawa headed into the woods for solo training. Push-ups, chakra control exercises, basic taijutsu forms—nothing fancy, just grinding. By the time he collapsed into bed, exhausted, his Ninja Tool Throwing entry had gained another 5%.
One week until that's complete, he thought, reviewing his system. Then I can focus on the Three Body Technique.
He was drifting off when a voice cut through the darkness.
"Hanekawa... Hanekawa..."
He jerked awake, heart pounding. What the—
The voice stopped. Hanekawa rubbed his eyes and looked toward the window.
Under the moonlight, faint chakra traced words across the night sky:
Meet at Konoha Knowledge Bookstore at nine o'clock on Sunday morning.
The chakra dissipated, leaving only darkness.
Hanekawa's stomach dropped. The Hidden Cloud contact.
So it was finally happening. The spy network was making its move. He'd almost forgotten about that part of his situation—the whole "undercover agent" thing had taken a backseat to head-pats and gambling debts.
A bookstore though? That was an odd choice. Not exactly the rooftop-at-midnight vibe he'd expected. Then again, a bookstore was public enough to avoid suspicion. Smart.
He had no idea who the contact was. The Hidden Cloud had plenty of capable ninja, but the ones that stood out in his memory were the Raikage—a god among men—and Samui, who was apparently in the same league as Tsunade.
Well, Hanekawa thought, settling back into bed, I guess I'm about to find out.
He fell asleep wondering what Sunday would bring.