"Sensei… do we really have to do this?" Naruto gulped, staring at the roaring river and the bottomless waterfall before him. His throat went dry just looking at it.
Kakarot gave a firm, wordless nod.
So—
> "Here goes nothing!"
With a leap, splash! Naruto dove straight into the river.
---
Kakarot, student of the God of Martial Arts, Master Roshi, followed a combat philosophy known as the Turtle School (Kame-Sen'nin Ryū).
Its foundation was simple in theory, brutal in practice:
> Train with full focus. Push your body and spirit to the edge. Then rest completely, letting both recover fully.
As Master Roshi once said:
> "Train well. Study well. Play well. Eat well. Rest well."
It sounded easy. In reality? Almost no one could follow it without getting distracted, interrupted, or burned out.
But this was more than muscle training—it was about shaping the spirit.
To return to simplicity. To grow by becoming pure of heart.
And by the time Kakarot faced Majin Buu, he had become, by all accounts, a true martial arts master.
---
Turtle School's basic training had five pillars:
Swimming
Delivering milk
Studying
Farming
Moving bricks
Sounds harmless, right?
Wrong.
"Swimming" meant crossing entire oceans
"Delivering milk" happened while being chased by dinosaurs
"Farming" was barehanded digging
"Moving bricks"? You were the entire construction crew
And once you mastered those… then came the real training: training the heart.
---
Right now, Naruto was working on swimming.
Kakarot had trained by swimming while fleeing from sharks.
Naruto had no ocean, no sharks.
So Kakarot improvised.
He tossed the boy straight into a raging waterfall and used the pressure of the current to push his limits.
After all, nothing motivates growth like survival instinct.
Pain becomes strength.
Struggle becomes fuel.
> "Kid," Kakarot's voice echoed in Naruto's mind, "remember what I told you—breathe right. Combine that with proper technique. Don't just brute force everything."
Naruto snapped back to focus, recalling what Kakarot had taught him in the sealed space.
He inhaled deeply, focused his breath, drew back his left arm to push forward—
—and was instantly swept away by the current.
Yeah… still too small for this.
Just before he could go over the edge, a masked ANBU in black grabbed him by the collar and lifted him out of the water.
Of course the Nine-Tails Jinchūriki had bodyguards.
In fact, knowing they were there was the only reason Naruto dared do something this reckless.
> "Thanks, big bro," Naruto said sweetly, flashing a smile—completely ignoring the ninja's overwhelming aura of malice.
In response, the malice only got thicker.
Naruto smiled bitterly to himself.
> Doesn't matter.
> Even if you hate me, you're required to protect me.
> What doesn't kill me… only makes me stronger.
---
Naruto trained day and night in Turtle School techniques. Where there was no milk to deliver, he substituted hurling giant rocks into the homes of the villagers who hated him most. No bricks to move? He'd rip off their rooftops. No fields to till? He'd "borrow" their gardens.
He called it:
> "Delivering warmth."
To the villagers, Naruto looked like a walking catastrophe—mischievous, destructive, chaotic.
They filed endless complaints to the Third Hokage.
But the Third… didn't do much.
As long as Naruto wasn't physically harming anyone, he let it slide. In fact, he encouraged it—hoping Naruto would become more dependent on him.
And Naruto? Played along.
He smiled, bowed, and called him "Gramps."
> If that guy didn't still leak malice, maybe I'd actually believe it.
The Hokage's response to villagers was always the same:
No reaction.
No rejection.
No support.
And so the villagers' hatred festered.
But none dared lay a hand on Naruto—because of the Hokage's order.
Even if they did, they wouldn't win. Not against someone trained in Turtle School.
Even at just four years old.
---
But Naruto didn't care what they thought anymore.
He had realized something simple and brutal:
> Even if I was the perfect angel, they'd still hate me.
So he focused on what mattered: getting stronger.
---
Spring turned to fall. A whole year passed.
Training had become addictive—like lifting weights, but for the soul.
---
> "Ah, another beautiful day full of hatred. Good morning, Naruto." he said to his reflection, smiling dryly.
His body? Inhuman.
No matter how drained he was the day before, one night's rest and he was refreshed like he'd been shot with pure adrenaline.
Only that absurd constitution let him survive Kakarot's brutal training.
> "Hey, kid," Kakarot's voice echoed. "From today on, we're doubling your training."
At 1.75 meters, Goku looked like a god compared to the 1.1-meter Naruto.
And Naruto hated being called "kid."
> "Yes, sensei," he said flatly, slipping on a light purple turtle shell backpack and jogging out the door.
Weighted training was a core Turtle School method.
Once you completed the five pillars—swimming, "milk delivery," studying, farming, brick-moving—you added weights.
The shell Naruto wore?
100 kilograms.
He could wear more, honestly.
But he had a theory:
> What if Krillin is so short because he wore this damn shell as a kid?
And Goku? Goku was a Saiyan. He didn't count.
> Wait… how heavy was Lee's leg weights during the Chūnin Exams?
If growth wasn't hindered, Naruto figured it wouldn't be long before he surpassed Lee's entire loadout.
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