The next morning arrived at the same time as usual, but this time, the shadow clone hadn't dispersed on its own.
That alone confirmed Tōma's theory.
Since a shadow clone possessed independent thought and could form hand seals on its own, it followed that it should also be able to actively regulate its chakra flow. It couldn't eliminate consumption entirely, but careful control could reduce waste and significantly extend its lifespan.
That opened up several advantages.
First, longer uptime meant longer study sessions. While part of the clone's focus would be spent on chakra control, slightly lowering learning efficiency, the total study time still increased. More importantly, sustained control directly trained chakra precision.
Tōma decided that in the future, he'd assign a fixed amount of chakra to each clone. The longer a clone lasted, the better his control had become.
On top of that, there was the bonus of true multitasking. One mind, several workloads. Efficient in a way few techniques could match.
The downside was obvious too. A shadow clone's chakra pool was small, which meant advanced practices like shape transformation or nature transformation had to remain the main body's responsibility.
Shape transformation, at least, was manageable. From Tōma's understanding, the less chakra involved, the easier it was to control its form. His reserves weren't tiny, but compared to his mental capacity, they were still modest, making this kind of training relatively smooth.
Nature transformation was another matter entirely.
That felt like the opposite. Flood an area with chakra, find a point of change within it, grasp that difference, and slowly spread it outward. With his current reserves, learning it quickly was unrealistic. Slow accumulation was the only path.
Easy first. Hard later.With his talent, he doubted this wall would stop him for long.
Glancing at the class schedule on his desk, Tōma calculated whether a shadow clone's runtime could cover most academic lessons. The answer was… just about.
The ninja academy's classroom hours were actually short. For shinobi, physical training mattered far more. Six years of schooling in peacetime was already plenty to cover theory.
As for physical training, that was exactly why it happened at school. Most people didn't train without supervision. Laziness was the norm, not discipline.
Classes could be handled by a clone. Physical drills could be divided, letting the clone switch out before excessive fatigue transferred back to the main body.
Looking at his tightly packed daily plan, Tōma sighed softly.
When did I become this intense…
But without special lineage or miracles waiting to happen, carving out a future meant effort. As long as he could see the road ahead, stopping wasn't an option.
Still, today was different.
After the shadow clone dispersed naturally, Tōma left his room. Today was special. He decided to take a break and give himself one proper day off.
With the little allowance he'd saved up, he walked through Konoha's familiar streets, thinking about what to buy.
It was Fujimoto Sana's birthday.
Anything expensive would just earn him a scolding, and his funds wouldn't allow it anyway. The gift needed to be practical. Clothes? A scarf?
He glanced up at the blazing sun and dropped that idea instantly. Wrong season.
Food, maybe? Something rare. Cooking a meal himself?
…No. Let's not risk that.
Just as frustration set in, his eyes caught a splash of color.
A flower.
Tōma stopped and looked toward a small flower shop. Flowers weren't costly, wouldn't earn a lecture, and he vaguely remembered that different flowers carried meanings.
Surely there was one for mothers.
Decision made, he stepped inside.
"Oh?" the shopkeeper smiled warmly. "Looking for flowers, young man?"
"Yes," Tōma replied politely. "What flower would be suitable for a mother's birthday?"
"Oh my, how thoughtful," the woman said in surprise, smiling wider.
Then, a blond girl beside her leaned over, squinting at Tōma.
"…I've seen you before."
Tōma blinked, then nodded. "Yamanaka-san. I'm Fujimoto Tōma. We're classmates."
Ino's eyes lit up. "Oh! Right! You sit near the back, with the blond kid, don't you?"
"That's right."
"Hmph, see? Anyway, if it's for your mom, carnations are the obvious choice. Just don't pick white."
Tōma glanced at her, then instinctively looked to the shopkeeper for confirmation.
"That's correct," Yamanaka-san said with a gentle laugh. "Carnations symbolize gratitude and sincere love. For mothers, they also represent wishes for youth, happiness, and good health."
That settled it.
"Then I'll take one, please," Tōma said, a bit embarrassed. One flower felt modest, but his allowance was limited and he still needed to buy a cake.
Since it was for Ino's classmate, Yamanaka-san offered a discount and had Ino choose the flower herself. After some serious deliberation, Ino wrapped a carnation and handed it over.
"Thank you," Tōma said sincerely.
Ino froze for half a beat. "Ah— y-you're welcome."The earlier irritation vanished instantly.
Yamanaka-san chuckled softly.
"Oh, one more thing," Tōma added. "Is there a cake shop nearby?"
She thought for a moment. "It's a bit far. Why not have Ino show you the way?"
"I'll be fine," Tōma replied. "I know most of the village."
"Oh, it's no trouble," Yamanaka-san said firmly. "And she's just guarding the shop anyway."
Ino already looked eager. Much better than standing around all day.
"…Alright," Tōma conceded.
And just like that, his quiet day off turned into something unexpectedly lively.