The Academy was bigger than I expected. There's also that classic tree out front with a swing on it
*Cue sad Naruto flashback*
A giant fire kanji (火) posted at the top of the central tower. I gave my mother a quiet "goodbye" and walked inside.
Fun fact: I didn't know the Hokage's office was in the same building. Guess it's a security thing—keep the next generation close. Or Hiruzen was a closet Pdf? No one really knows.
The classrooms were unnecessarily large with high ceilings. Probably to avoid triggering a PTSD meltdown in the chunin teachers. I chuckled at the thought while I claimed the classic protagonist seat at the back corner, by the window. Gotta avoid those death flags at all cost, and what not.
I was hoping for some epic entrance ceremony. A speech from the Hokage about the Will of Fire or something. But nope. Turned out it was just a grumpy genin checking names and pointing to classrooms.
I ignored the squealing 5-year-olds around me and zoned out. God I'm already regretting this.
Lately, I've been reading a book my mother gave me. It was about a ninja protecting a wealthy merchant family. They were hiding in a secret room, trying to stay quiet… but the family had a baby. And the baby wouldn't stop crying.
So the ninja snapped the baby's neck.
And they still got caught anyway.
Bleak, right? But I got the point. Sometimes, you'll have to make choices that break you—and they still might not matter. Heavy stuff for a five-year-old, but I appreciated the honesty.
Eventually, the teacher showed up. Just some average-looking guy, quiet, standing at the podium. I glanced around the room—there were some familiar faces. Kakashi, Asuma, Kurenai, and a younger, somehow even weirder-looking Might Guy shouting about youth at full volume.
'Huh. I thought Kakashi was younger than Obito and Rin. Maybe they meet later?'
'Also... why am I the same age as Kakashi? That's suspiciously convenient.'
Probably the handiwork of whatever reincarnated me here.
The days rolled on like that, and training continued, so did the classes.
I had the Gentle Fist down, a few Eight Trigrams techniques, and had learned the Mystical Palm and Diagnostic Techniques. But my battle-ready jutsu list was short—too much focus on taijutsu by the virtue of the preconceived notion of Hyuga's taijutsu superiority. But I'm not like them. I need range, and I needed them yesterday.
Kunai and shuriken felt like genin-tier tools, so I left that to the Academy to teach. Instead, I started working on the Vacuum Palm. From what I'd seen, it didn't deal much damage—just shoved people around—but it was officially part of the Eight Trigrams, so it was worth a shot.
I also started thinking about Shadow Clones. Until recently, I didn't have a reason to learn it. But apparently, it's not exactly a secret technique anymore. If my teacher can send a clone to watch us while he takes a dump, I can probably learn it.
When I got home, I asked my mother about it. And she actually answered.
"The Shadow Clone Jutsu allows the user to create one or more copies of themselves. Chakra is evenly divided among the clones, so usually only jonin-level shinobi can use it safely."
That was the most she'd spoken to me in months…
"Can you teach me? Or have Haruto teach me?"
She shifted, narrowed her eyes. "Hmm... you have enough chakra. I'll show you."
Her hand blurred, but slowed down enough for me to see her signs. Tiger. Serpent. Ram. Poof.
A Shadow Clone appeared behind her.
"Thanks, Oka-sama," I said quickly, before spinning on my heel and making a quiet escape. That whole conversation felt... weird. I couldn't shake it.
I sighed, and wrote down the hand signs, and started planning how I'd fit Shadow Clone training into my already packed schedule.