When I open my eyes, for a second, I almost forget where I am.
The wooden ceiling above me isn't the cracked plaster of my old apartment, and the faint smell of smoke and pine doesn't belong to my old apartment. It takes a moment to settle in, the stiff futon under me making me squirm.
With a headband pressing against my forehead.
This wasn't a dream.
"Well... fuck."
I exhale slowly, rubbing my eyes, which are struggling to open in the morning.
The sunlight seeps through the paper windows, painting the floorboards in uneven gold. The room itself is small, minimalist even, like the kind of free dorms handed to low-ranking shinobi.
There's a single table pushed against the wall, a shelf with a few ink-stained scrolls, and a battered chest that probably counts as storage. The air's a little stale, like no one's opened a window in a while.
My eyes land on a weapon pouch near the futon.
Getting up and making my way to it, I crouch down and open the flap.
"That's dusty as hell," I say in a deadpan tone, too tired to be complacent. The kunai are dulled, one with a chip near the edge and more problems than I can count. Even the shuriken look like they've been used as bottle openers.
I can remember it through Jiraiya's memories. He knew he was supposed to polish these. Every academy student did. But he never bothered.
This bum was too lazy.
Setting it down, I walk toward the door, and that's when I notice it. A small folded piece of paper slid under the frame, weighed down by a coin pouch. I blink, crouch, and pick it up. The pouch jingles lightly in my hand, heavier than I expected.
When I unfold the note, the handwriting is neat and formal.
Eat well, Jiraiya. The stronger the body, the sharper your will.P.S. Treat yourself to some Akimichi BBQ, and don't forget your promise!
– Hiruzen Sarutobi
For a second, I just stare at it. Then I open the pouch and count the contents by feel.
"Sweet, my stipend money," I mutter.
That's… a lot. Definitely more than the standard Genin stipend. From the memories buried in this head, I know the usual amount barely covers meals for a month. This? This could last a lot longer.
The normal amount was around 1.5k Ryo, which was maybe 190 dollars. Hiruzen put in some extra cash, making it 4k Ryo, which was straight-up 500.
"Thank god for a rich sensei."
I close my eyes and look up, acting like Vince Carter at his jersey retirement.
Those extra words when I was tied up to the stump didn't fail me at all.
Of course though, Hiruzen would do something like this. If your student's struggling to even eat, how would he make progress in training? For that little speech I gave yesterday, he wants to encourage me.
And honestly? I'll take it.
In a world where chakra decides everything, money's still the foundation. No food, no training. No equipment, no progress. I tuck the note into the table drawer and place three-quarters of the money inside the drawer too.
"In case I lose the pouch, but what are the chances."
Today's the first real day as a Genin. I'll have to be at least a bit presentable. The original Jiraiya only had three sets of standard clothes, so it was time to take a shower.
...
After a bit of time goes by.
Steam rolls off my skin as I step out of the shower, towel slung over my shoulders. The water was great and refreshing. I stare at the fogged-up mirror above the basin, messy white hair and tired eyes.
"Akimichi BBQ isn't too far," I mumble. "The prices must be brutal though."
My stomach grumbles before I can get too sentimental. Right. Food. Hiruzen's note wasn't exactly subtle about that.
How else will I build muscle?
Taking my weapon pouch and putting on my clothes, it was time to leave.
The morning air outside is fresh, filled with the smell of grilled rice and smoke. Konoha feels alive, people shouting orders, kids running through the streets, shopkeepers pulling open their stalls. For a second, I just stand there, taking it all in. It's one thing to watch a world; it's another thing entirely to breathe it in.
At this point, the First Shinobi War had ended a bit ago, and now the village was recuperating.
I spot a mid-sized restaurant tucked between two buildings, with a big sign.
[Akimichi BBQ]
The sign's faded and the wood's chipped, but the smell is divine. My stomach doesn't need more convincing. As I walk in, the owner, a broad-shouldered man with an apron too small for his gut, gives me a once-over.
His brow furrows slightly.
"I'm sorry to ask, but can you afford it, kid?" he says, one hand still gripping the tongs.
"Yeah," I nod, patting my coin pouch. "My sensei gave me some money. Told me to grab a proper meal."
His expression softens at my words. "That so? Alright then. First-time customers get a twenty percent discount."
My shoulders ease a little. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
He grunts something about growing kids needing meat and gets to work.
When the food comes, it's simple: rice, grilled beef, miso soup, and tea. But the moment I take a bite, my whole world stops. The taste hits harder than it should. Real food. Not ramen packets or stale bread, but something warm.
I end up eating slower than usual, trying to savor it.
This isn't a meal I can have every day.
When I finish, I even pack a small portion to go, a little something to give Hiruzen later. It feels right, in a way, like paying back the kindness he showed me this morning.
After paying and triple-checking the math because I'm paranoid, I head out toward the training grounds.
The forest clearing is quiet except for the distant hum of cicadas. The air feels heavier here, like the world's waiting for me to do something.
"Alright. Time to see what I can actually do."
I sit cross-legged on the grass and close my eyes. Focus. Inhale. Exhale.
It starts slow, a faint warmth in my gut spreading through my body like steam curling in a cup. It's strange but not unpleasant. It feels alive, like something deep inside me just woke up.
"Chakra," I whisper. "So this is what it feels like."
The chakra feels comfortable, like a warm hug wherever I focus the current.
I press a leaf to my forehead, trying to push that warmth upward. For a moment, it sticks for around ten seconds before dropping back to my lap.
Again. Stick. Drop. Stick. Drop.
Each attempt increases the time by five seconds, and my control is improving. More like I'm remembering how the old Jiraiya did it. From his memories, he could do it for at least two minutes.
"Alright, I need to calm down and breathe," I think, remembering it's literally called the Leaf Concentration Exercise.
The original problem Jiraiya had was focusing, as it's the main thing this exercise trains besides chakra control of course. Which in all honesty was his one and only weakness in the academy.
Besides not studying much.
Pushing my chakra back up toward my forehead, the leaf sticks.
Thirty seconds.
A minute.
Two minutes.
Five minutes pass before the leaf finally falls back into my lap.
"Man," I groan, falling back onto the grass. "This stuff's harder than it looks."
It's like trying to push water uphill, the feeling of extra chakra not moving distracting me a bit.
From what I remember, chakra's a mix of physical and spiritual energy, body and mind. If that's true, then my physical side's probably the weak link here.
I make a mental note to fix that.
Train my body.
For now, I just close my eyes again and breathe, feeling the faint hum of chakra and pushing it around my body, trying to experience how it feels to move something so alive through every inch of myself.
It only takes a few minutes before a hand touches my shoulder.
"Pushing too hard, aren't you?"
The voice catches me off guard.
"Sensei!" I say, a bit excited. "I'm not pushing too hard, after all I need lots of muscles to attract the ladies."
Showing my skinny biceps, I put a hand on them to emphasize muscles.
He chuckles, amused at my words. "I see, well that means you have to eat and train a lot too. Are you just doing chakra exercises?"
"I'm going back to the basics. So I want to refine them a bit more," I admit. "But controlling my chakra feels like pushing water…" I scratch the back of my neck, explaining my current worries.
There's no point hiding it.
If I want to be trained, being transparent with my skill set and struggles is important. Hiding my repertoire? What's there to hide anyway?
"Ah, not bad." He smiles, eyes narrowing slightly with amusement. "But if I had to guess, you've been trying to force your chakra, haven't you?"
I blink. "What do you mean, sensei?"
He puts a hand on his chin. "I can tell from the way your hair swirls to the right. Chakra leaves traces of movement through the body. The direction your hair swirls shows the direction you let your chakra whirlpool flow. You're pushing it one way instead of letting it spin and move freely."
That actually made some sense."Still sounds like gibberish though… but let's try it."
He crouches beside me, drawing a line in the dirt with a stick. "Think of chakra like a river. Your spiritual energy is the current, and your physical energy is the water itself. Together, they form a whirlpool. You want to control how much that whirlpool lets out and where it goes."
He flicks the stick, scattering the dirt. "Control isn't about strength, Jiraiya. It's about balance."
I nod slowly, trying to picture it. The concept feels simple, but applying it… that's the real challenge.
Hiruzen's eyes soften. "Also, what's this?" He pauses, glancing at the weapon pouch and the packaged food beside it.
My face warms. "Uh, yeah. Some food from the Akimichi place. Figured you might like it."
He lets out a quiet chuckle as he reaches over and ruffles my hair. "You remembered your teacher even after a good meal. I see your heart's still in the right place."
"Hey, don't do that to my hair!" I complain as he rubs harder.
"Haha!" Hiruzen laughs, taking the package and nodding thoughtfully.
It's still early morning, not yet time for the team to assemble, so while he eats, I practice my katas. He occasionally helps me with my stance and balance, which makes the process of "remembering" the forms much easier.
Half an hour passes like that before the first member arrives.
Orochimaru.
The clearing goes quiet when he arrives.
The future snake sannin casually walks toward us. His eyes sweep over me and Hiruzen, looking more curious than anything. Even though I've seen this face in countless episodes, being on the receiving end is something else entirely.
Kid Orochimaru was strangely adorable.
"Sensei," he says softly, bowing his head.
Hiruzen gives him a nod. "You're early as well. Good. We'll begin once Tsunade arrives."
Orochimaru glances at me, his gaze lingering for a second longer than it should. "Jiraiya," he says, acknowledging me.
"Yo!" I respond casually.
It still feels a bit weird and confusing how I should talk to him. But being a little distant is fine for now, as we still haven't interacted much. As long as I'm not overly mature, it shouldn't be too bad.
The sound of hurried footsteps breaks through the still air. Tsunade bursts through the trees, breathing hard, her ponytail bouncing behind her. Even as a kid, she's got that same aura, loud, confident, impossible to ignore.
"I'm here! You called us over to meet at such an early time, sensei!" she shouts, annoyed, hands on her hips.
"You're finally here, Tsunade. Come here!" Hiruzen happily waves at the Senju girl.
Then her eyes land on me, and her grin turns dangerous.
"Well, well, if it isn't the stump boy. Didn't think you'd have the guts to show your face after yesterday."
Oh, perfect.
"That's none of your business, princess," I mutter quietly. It's not like I could defend how stupid Jiraiya was when he was straight-up walking into traps constantly.
"I hope not!" she laughs, pointing at me. "You fell for every trap sensei set! You even tripped on the same rope!"
"Shut up, it won't happen again," I say, testing the waters.
Her smirk widens with teasing delight. "Sure you were. Talking about sending letters to you later, huh? With your face, a girl wouldn't even look at you!"
'Not too bad. Let's see what pushes her buttons.'
I look away, crossing my arms. "Whatever, annoying brat."
"What did you say?" Tsunade snaps as a bead of sweat rolls down my face.
Holy fuck, that was fast.
Calling her a snowflake would be an understatement.
"Nothing, nothing," I say quickly, waving my hands in surrender. She's already cracking her knuckles, and I have no desire to start my Genin career with a broken jaw.
'Ref, do something.'
"Alright, settle down." Hiruzen steps between us, his tone patient but firm. "Today isn't about sparring yet. I just wanted to see your attitudes before we begin."
Tsunade huffs, folding her arms. Orochimaru stays quiet, clearly uninterested in childish banter, though his eyes flick between us with faint amusement.
"Sensei," Orochimaru says flatly, with a tinge of curiosity, "what kind of missions will we be doing?"
This was clearly the same for Tsunade, as she too leans in a bit. Although as a transmigrator, the missions to come seem tedious.
Hiruzen smiles, setting down his empty food box. "We will start with some D-rank missions. Because of the First Shinobi War ending, there is a surplus of such jobs, and we will be participating. Let's head over now."
The three of us nod at his words.