Seeing Kushina being chased by a group of genin, Amano Ren remained expressionless. He had no intention of stepping in. The first time he intervened had been a spontaneous decision, triggered by memories from his past. Since then, he'd paid no mind to his classmates bullying Kushina.
In fact, the boys who tried picking fights with Kushina always came away humiliated. This time, they'd even enlisted help from someone who had already graduated into a genin.
But none of this had anything to do with him. In this world, if someone wanted to protect themselves, in the end, they could only rely on their own strength.
After casting a brief glance in their direction, Amano Ren turned and walked away. He deliberately chose a path opposite from where Kushina was running.
Hidden among the trees, Minato observed Amano Ren's retreating figure with a contemplative look. Over the past six months, he felt like he had begun to understand Amano Ren, even though the two had barely exchanged a handful of words.
"What kind of person are you, really...?"
Minato shifted his gaze, then sprang forward, leaping from tree to tree in the direction Kushina had fled. When he arrived, he saw Matsushita yanking hard on Kushina's hair. She gritted her teeth through the pain and pushed forward with wild determination, completely ignoring how her fiery red hair was being stretched to the point of tearing in Matsushita's grasp.
"I hate this hair too... but it's still a part of me!"
Kushina spun around, teeth clenched and eyes blazing with anger. Matsushita stood stunned, staring at the strands of hair in his hand.
From his hidden perch, Minato silently watched the scene unfold. This was Kushina's strength—different from the strength he had seen in Amano Ren.
So then... where does my strength come from?
After returning to the house, there was still no sign of Orochimaru.
Despite living in the village for seven or eight months, Amano Ren had seen Orochimaru fewer than twenty times. Every time he had wanted to ask about chakra control, he had been held back by the weary look on Orochimaru's face.
The greater one's ability, the greater their burden. With the status of being both a disciple of the Hokage and one of the Legendary Sannin, Orochimaru had been endlessly busy since the end of the Second Great Ninja War. The man had his sights clearly set on the Hokage's seat—and was working tirelessly toward that goal.
The house was vast—so much so that its size only emphasized the emptiness and cold inside. Still, it was the only place Orochimaru could find real rest. With him that exhausted, Amano Ren had never found the right moment to speak up.
After changing into more casual clothes, Amano Ren quietly prepared a simple meal and sat down to eat alone.
Though the dishes were basic, the portions were generous.
It didn't take long for him to finish every last bite. After cleaning up, he picked up his ninja tools and headed outside into the courtyard. The old tree was still there, but now it served as his personal target dummy.
Thud!
He threw a shuriken without hesitation. Bullseye.
One, two, three…
He practiced for over an hour. Not a single throw missed the target. This was the result of relentless daily training over the past six months. His accuracy was now exceptional. The only thing he lacked was raw power—his throws didn't have the same force as an adult's. That also meant his speed was a bit lacking. But that wasn't a major problem. As his body matured, strength would come naturally.
After throwing practice, Amano Ren moved on to physical training—push-ups, sit-ups, lifting stone dumbbells.
Anything that could help build physical strength, he forced himself to do. After each workout, he'd eat again to help his body recover, but mental exhaustion wasn't something food could fix.
After finishing his routine, he took a bath to wash away the sweat, then returned to the kitchen to prepare another meal. Every day was like this. Repetitive. Unchanging. A loop that seemed endless.
Six months wasn't long… but it wasn't short either.
And in all that time, not a moment passed when Amano Ren didn't think of the world he came from. He constantly reminded himself not to lose track of time. Six months here—just a few minutes there.
He knew the saying well: You can't rush hot tofu. Things had to unfold at their own pace.
Once the food was ready, Amano Ren lifted his aching arms and shoveled the meal into his mouth. As he ate, the soreness in his body slowly began to fade.
He still didn't fully understand the uniqueness of his own body. But he didn't need to understand it to take advantage of it. This was what had allowed him to survive this far—step by step.
At best, the food only partially replenished his energy. The pain didn't disappear completely, but it faded enough—maybe sixty to seventy percent. That was enough for him to get some decent sleep later.
Click...
Just as he was eating, a soft sound came from the entryway.
"Hm?"
Amano Ren paused, chopsticks in hand. He looked up and muttered, "Orochimaru's back?"
He put down his chopsticks and headed to the door. When he got there, he saw Orochimaru removing his shoes.
"You're back," Amano Ren said, watching Orochimaru's back.
Orochimaru nodded slightly. As he finished changing, he lifted his head and seemed to catch the scent of food from the dining room.
"Is there any food left?" he asked suddenly.
"There's a bit left. If it's not enough, I can make more," Amano Ren replied.
Orochimaru gave him a glance and said flatly, "No need."
With that, he walked toward the dining room.
Amano Ren didn't follow. Instead, he went to the kitchen and brought out an extra set of utensils. When he returned to the dining area, Orochimaru was already seated at the table, still in his mission clothes.
Amano Ren scooped some rice into the bowl and handed it over. Orochimaru accepted it without a word and began eating at a calm, steady pace.
Since there wasn't much food left, Amano Ren simply finished what was in his bowl and didn't touch the rest.
Orochimaru cast him a subtle glance but said nothing as he continued eating.
A few minutes later, the table was spotless—not even scraps remained. Clearly, Orochimaru had been hungrier than he let on.
Amano Ren had never really thought about what it would be like to share this big, cold house with someone else. But now that it had happened, it wasn't so bad.
Orochimaru put down his bowl and looked at Amano Ren. The moment the last grain of rice disappeared, Amano Ren raised his gaze to meet Orochimaru's.
"Orochimaru, teach me how to control chakra."
Tonight, Amano Ren could no longer hold it in. He took the initiative.
"The Academy will teach you," Orochimaru replied calmly, voice hoarse as ever.
"I want to learn now," Amano Ren said firmly.
A faint flicker crossed Orochimaru's eyes. He had long been aware of Amano Ren's daily training and his outstanding performance at the Academy. He also knew of Amano Ren's intense desire to master chakra control. Until now, he had always held back. So why bring it up so suddenly?
Whatever the reason was, Orochimaru didn't care to ask.
"You've already begun generating chakra," he said, looking at Amano Ren with a steady gaze.