Chapter 3: Training
On the outskirts of Konoha, at the abandoned Training Ground 7, the sunset was like an overturned bucket of orange-red paint, smearing the sky and the sparse woods in a thick, vibrant coat. The cicadas shrieked themselves hoarse, as if singing a final dirge for the dying day.
The scene at the center of the field, however, was completely at odds with the tranquil twilight. Heavy gasps, like the pulling of a worn-out bellows, were punctuated by the dull thud of a body hitting the ground.
Thud!
Akimichi Choji collapsed to the ground again, kicking up a cloud of dust. His clothes were soaked through with sweat and dirt, clinging tightly to his round body.
He lay there, panting heavily, his chubby face flushed crimson. Streams of sweat dripped from his chin, darkening the dry earth beneath him.
His arms felt like they were filled with lead. Every attempt to push himself up was met with violent trembling.
"The... the third... expansion... right hand... The chakra... it broke again..." he whimpered, his voice thick with tears and frustration.
Three consecutive, precise uses of the Partial Expansion Jutsu, each three seconds apart, all while maintaining his center of gravity—it was absolute murder. His chakra pathways felt like they were being violently yanked and stretched, sending waves of burning pain through him.
"Get up, Choji!"
Alex-as-Shikamaru's voice cut through Choji's ragged breaths. It wasn't loud, but it had a cold, piercing quality.
He stood a few meters away, his shadow stretched long by the setting sun. His own forehead was beaded with sweat, a strand of dark hair stuck to his cheek, and his breathing was noticeably faster than usual.
He was holding an extremely awkward stance, his hands forming a complex and strange hand seal. His body was leaned slightly forward, and the shadow at his feet was like a living ink-black viper, twisting and straining to extend further and further.
The target was a wooden stake, as thick as a wrist, stuck in the ground ten meters away.
The Shadow Stretching Technique. A secret art of the Nara clan. In a ten-year-old's body, his chakra reserves were far from mature. Forcibly extending his shadow to its absolute limit while attempting fine control was like wringing every last drop of energy from his body.
His brain was operating at high speed, calculating every wisp of chakra flow, while his muscles, screaming under the strain, relayed a tearing soreness. He was pushing past his limits, too.
"Chakra doesn't respond to shouting! Feel its flow! Control it like you're keeping the air in a bag of chips from going flat! Focus! Imagine your arm is that chip bag!" Alex's gaze was hawk-like, pinning Choji's trembling right arm as he pinpointed the problem.
While berating Choji, he forced his own mind to dive inward, squeezing out every ounce of his potential.
His shadow crept forward arduously, its tip still a full two meters from the stake before its momentum failed, beginning to waver and dissipate.
"Shikamaru! That's enough!" a tearful shout came from the side.
Ino stood nearby, her face pale as a sheet and slick with cold sweat. A few strands of her blonde hair were plastered miserably to her cheeks.
Her hands were formed into the seal for the Mind Body Switch Technique, but her body was swaying, on the verge of collapse. Her fingertips were white from the strain and trembled uncontrollably.
Her target—a frantic gray rabbit scrambling around in a small cage—remained perfectly fine. Her spiritual energy was like a bowstring pulled to its absolute limit, ready to snap at any moment. Every forced attempt to focus brought a fresh wave of intense dizziness and pain.
"I... I can't do it anymore... My head hurts so much... Shikamaru! You're just torturing us!" Ino's voice was a choked sob, tears welling in her eyes.
The continuous, high-intensity mental focus made her feel like her head was about to explode. She stared at the stupid rabbit, her vision blurring.
"The Mind Body Switch doesn't work by glaring at it! Your spiritual energy is scattered like sand!" Alex whipped his head around and snapped, his voice hoarse with fatigue but undeniably stern. "Feel it! Like you feel which flower needs water or which leaf has a bug on it! Lock onto the target! Your spiritual energy is an invisible thread—use it to tie that thing down! Now! Immediately! Don't tell me you can't even handle a rabbit!"
His rebuke was like a whip, lashing across Ino's frayed nerves.
"You...!" Ino trembled with rage, and the tears finally spilled over, rolling down her cheeks. She was instantly overwhelmed by a tidal wave of humiliation, physical pain, and mental defeat.
She abruptly dropped her hands, clutching her throbbing head as she sank to the ground. Burying her face in her knees, her shoulders began to shake violently.
"Waaah... I'm not doing it anymore... You jerk, Shikamaru... I hate you! I'm gonna tell Asuma-sensei you're bullying me..."
Her stifled cries echoed across the empty training ground, filled with a young girl's helpless frustration.
Hearing Ino's sobs, Choji managed to lift his head, his own eyes welling up with tears. He looked at Shikamaru with a pleading, lost expression. "Shikamaru... Ino... can we... can we take a break? Please? Just for a little while..." his voice was faint.
The sun sank lower, stretching their shadows even thinner. Alex stood motionless, his chest heaving, sweat dripping from his chin.
He looked at the crying Ino, at the begging Choji, and felt the same fiery exhaustion and pain in his own body. His lips were pressed into a thin, hard line.
In his mind, the lazy instincts of Nara Shikamaru were screaming at him to give up. But the will of Alex was like tempered steel, growing harder in the flames of their suffering.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The air smelled of dust, sweat, and sun-scorched grass. The helplessness of his past life, the image of Asuma falling, Ino's despairing cries... these scenes were branded into his mind more clearly than any whip.
When he opened his eyes again, all hesitation was gone, replaced by a coldness as hard as stone.
"What a drag..." he muttered in his familiar, complaining tone. But what followed was sharp and resolute. "Crying? You think crying will make the enemy spare Asuma-sensei the next time you're in danger? Tired? If you lie down now, will you have the strength to rush forward the next time you see him get hurt?"
He walked over to Ino and crouched down. He didn't touch her, only stared at her trembling shoulders with eyes that were almost cruelly calm.
"Ino, look up." His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through her sobs. "Tell me, would you rather cry here now, or would you rather have the right to stand by Asuma-sensei's side when he needs you in two years, instead of just cowering behind him?"
Ino's sobs caught in her throat.
Alex stood up, his gaze sweeping over to Choji. "Same goes for you, Choji. Do you want to be a fat kid who gets laughed at his whole life, who can't even protect his own bag of chips? Or do you want to become the Akimichi Choji your comrades can depend on, the one who even Jonin will look at with respect?"
The last rays of the sunset fell on his face, casting one half in deep shadow and the other in a burning golden light. Sweat soaked his dark blue shirt, outlining a thin but arrow-straight spine. He stood there, like a silent banner.
Ino's sobbing subsided. She slowly lifted her head. Her face was a mess of tear tracks and her eyes were red and swollen, but in their aquamarine depths, the hurt and anger were being replaced by something harder, more complex—humiliation, indignation, and a furious fear of the future he had just described, of being the one who could only "cower and tremble."
She bit her lip, hard, tasting the salt of her tears and a hint of blood. Then, she violently wiped her face with the back of her hand.
Shaking, she got to her feet and faced the caged rabbit once more. Her hands trembled, but they resolutely formed the Mind Body Switch seal again. Her jaw was clenched, her expression so fierce it looked like she wanted to tear the very air apart.
Choji watched Ino, then looked back at Shikamaru. He sniffed hard, forcing his tears back.
A grit he never knew he had erupted from within his round body. He let out a low growl. Instead of trying to use his arms, like an enraged bear cub, he slammed his head against the ground and used all his strength to arch his back, stubbornly "uprooting" himself from the dirt in a clumsy but determined heave!
Sweat and mud were smeared across his face, but for the first time, his small eyes burned with a brilliant light.
"Hnngh—!" Choji grunted, chakra once again surging and pooling in his plump right arm. The skin took on the faint glow of the expansion jutsu. It was still unstable, and his muscles were screaming, but this time, he didn't fall.
Alex looked away, saying nothing more. He reset his stance, forcing himself to ignore his body's protests and the feeling of near-total chakra depletion.
He closed his eyes, sinking his entire consciousness into the shadow at his feet. This time, he wasn't chasing distance. He recalled his past life's rudimentary understanding of fluid dynamics and energy transfer, clumsily trying to guide the stubborn chakra. He wanted it to stop rampaging like a bull and instead flow like a stream, following the path of least resistance...
In the final embers of the sunset, his shadow seemed to find a new rhythm. It was still slow, but it was more solid than before, imbued with a new, almost imperceptible resilience. The ink-black tip once again began to creep, inch by stubborn inch, toward the silent wooden stake.
Sweat hit the hot ground and evaporated instantly, leaving only a dark stain. The only sounds left in the training ground were ragged breaths, the faint hum of chakra, and a silent persistence more powerful than any shout.
The wings of the Ino-Shika-Cho trio, soaked in sweat and tears and tempered by the setting sun, were undergoing a quiet, unknown metamorphosis. It was a transformation marked by blood and pain, all for the sole purpose of being able to truly take flight in a moment of despair yet to come.