Tōma started by reviewing his chakra control again.
At this point, techniques like tree-walking and water-walking no longer posed any challenge. He'd mastered them quickly in the past, not because they were easy, but because his chakra control had already exceeded what those exercises required. What he lacked wasn't precision, but instinct. He needed to reach a level where control happened naturally, without conscious thought.
That kind of improvement couldn't be rushed. It was a matter of repetition and time. For now, he shelved further refinement and moved on.
Next came shape transformation.
Without hand signs as a guide, forcing chakra to gather outside the body and maintain form was far harder than he'd expected. Inside his body, chakra behaved like an obedient stream. Outside, it felt wild, unstable, resistant. The difference was night and day.
Fortunately, his chakra reserves were still limited. Less chakra meant less resistance, which helped. He could already sense the connection and exert slight control, but shaping it precisely was still beyond reach.
Then there was the biggest question of all.
Sage techniques.
Tōma didn't know how to absorb natural energy. But from Naruto's future, he understood the prerequisites. Absolute stillness. Body and mind.
Absorbing natural energy was off the table for now anyway. Without proper supervision, it was a great way to turn yourself into a stone statue. He wasn't interested in dying that way.
The real issue was stillness itself.
Physical stillness? He could manage that. Even if it felt like ants were crawling all over him, he could endure it.
Mental stillness was another story.
He was a modern soul. His thoughts didn't stop. Even when he tried to blank his mind, something always slipped through. Ideas, plans, memories. Silence just wouldn't hold.
The only time his mind truly went quiet was when he slept deeply. But sleeping wasn't the kind of stillness sage techniques required.
And yet, Sage Mode was non-negotiable.
As enemies grew stronger, normal ninjutsu would stop being effective. Without Sage Mode, his only alternative would be taijutsu. And no matter how hard he trained, he'd never reach Might Guy's level, let alone surpass it. Even Guy could only throw that one impossible kick, and it shattered his leg.
So Sage Mode was necessary.
After years of trial and error, Tōma found a workaround. Not a perfect method, but something usable.
When the body was exhausted enough, the mind grew quieter.
It wasn't true stillness, but it was closer than anything else he'd achieved.
Even then, his strong mental stamina worked against him. His body would be worn out, but his thoughts still stirred. Still, it was progress. Slow progress, but real.
Now, whenever outdoor training ended and free time began, Tōma sat quietly and tried again. To others, it looked like he'd fallen asleep sitting up. In reality, his perception had sharpened drastically. If someone tried to touch him, he'd sense it instantly and stare back in silence until they backed off, unnerved.
Before long, people started lumping him in with Nara Shikamaru. Lazy. Worse, maybe even lazier. Shikamaru at least had to lie down to nap. Tōma could sit anywhere and "sleep."
He didn't care.
While true mental stillness remained elusive, the practice sharpened his focus, and that directly helped with shape transformation. After using up the last of his chakra on that, the school day usually ended.
Then he went home.
Dinner. A short break. Partial chakra recovery.
After that, sparring with Lee.
The recovered chakra was enough for basic techniques like the Three Body Techniques, and fighting Lee kept his combat sense sharp. Every part of his day fed into the next. Nothing was wasted.
Naturally, no one else knew any of this.
From the outside, it looked like Tōma was being lazy.
After watching this pattern repeat for several days, Iruka finally snapped.
"Tōma," Iruka said seriously, stopping him after class. "You can't keep slacking off like this. With your talent, you should be working even harder. Don't waste what you've been given."
Tōma froze.
Lazy?
He had to double-check his own memory.
Was this a joke?
At his age, even if he wasn't the most hardworking kid in the village, he was absolutely working harder than almost everyone else. Ninety-nine percent, at least.
And yet—
That realization struck him harder than any reprimand ever could.