The Shameless Three Generations
Shirō ended up going to a restaurant, but as usual, the choices were limited—mostly just ramen. Fortunately, ramen was one of the few things that agreed with his palate. He still couldn't get used to most other dishes in the village.
After eating, Shirō didn't head home to sleep. If he went to bed now, he'd likely sleep straight through the afternoon and miss valuable training time. But just sitting around wasn't exactly productive either. In the end, he decided to meditate—if only to recover some energy and temper his mind.
This wasn't a pseudo-meditation trick from his previous life, copied from cheap online articles. No, the technique had come from the Projection Noble Phantasm—a true meditative practice, albeit basic, that focused more on mental clarity than spiritual enhancement.
With regular practice, it was said to lead to a mind as calm as still water—serene even in the face of catastrophe. While Shirō was far from that ideal, even the early stages allowed him to slowly restore his energy and subtly reinforce his willpower.
That said, spiritual cultivation was elusive and abstract. Even though Shirō inherited the previous host's knowledge and insights, he still struggled to enter the right mental state by the end of his break.
But Shirō wasn't frustrated. He knew better than to rush the process. Mental discipline wasn't something that could be forced.
In the afternoon, Shirō and his teammates continued solo training. If they encountered difficulties, they consulted Nakamura. After their last mission, each of them had become more aware of their weaknesses, so the current priority was individual improvement. Team coordination could come later.
Besides, they were all in the middle of learning new techniques. Attempting team strategies now would only be premature and would need to be readjusted again anyway.
As usual, Shirō trained with both his main body and his Shadow Clone. It was exhausting, but undeniably efficient. It was only after experiencing it himself that Shirō truly appreciated how monstrous Naruto's willpower was—training with hundreds of Shadow Clones daily. That wasn't just "cheating"; it was dedication.
The power Naruto was granted might have been immense, but the person who wielded it—who endured the pain, the exhaustion, and the solitude—was even greater.
That was what Shirō admired. That unyielding will. And it was what he strived to emulate.
By evening, after a long day of training, the team finally dispersed to rest.
---
"I'm home."
"Why are you home so late?" Keiko asked immediately, frowning. "You need to pay attention to your health. What if you collapse from overwork?"
"It's fine, Mom. Captain Nakamura's watching over us, so nothing will happen."
"Still, you shouldn't push yourself like this. You only just returned from your last mission. You should be resting properly," she said, her expression full of concern.
"I'm okay. I'm going to rest now," Shirō reassured her, offering a tired smile before heading to his room.
Keiko sighed as she watched his weary figure disappear down the hallway. "I shouldn't have let him become a ninja... Look at how exhausted he is."
Her husband, Qieshi, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "This is the path he chose, and he's always been determined. We should be proud. This way, he'll have the strength to face the future."
"I know... I just worry for him. He's still so young."
"He knows what he's doing," Qieshi said gently. "And we must trust him. Don't show your worry in front of him—it'll only burden him. Get some rest. Wake up a bit early tomorrow and make him a good breakfast."
"Alright… I understand."
The two quietly went to their rooms. But in truth, even Qieshi felt a deep ache in his chest. He wished he could help Shirō more. Though their family bore a shinobi surname, their strength was barely different from commoners. The only thing they could give Shirō was emotional support.
---
That night, though thoroughly exhausted, Shirō still followed through with his evening routine—practicing Reinforcement Magic and Projection Magic, and then meditating for an hour.
By the time he finished, it was only around 9 PM—not too late by his standards.
The most important thing now was persistence—building habits that would turn into strength.
---
Two days later, Shirō and his team stood in front of the Hokage Building, waiting to join the contingent heading to Sunagakure for the Chūnin Exams.
Over the past two days, not much had changed. They continued their individual training routines, occasionally gathering to chat or exchange tips when taking breaks.
Shirō was somewhat disappointed that he hadn't yet mastered Thousand-Faced Wind, a B-rank Wind Release technique. It was understandable, though. Nakamura himself had limited experience with the jutsu and couldn't provide much guidance, leaving Shirō to fumble through the technique on his own.
Still, he'd made progress—completing half of it, at least. With luck and continued effort, he hoped to master it en route to the Hidden Sand Village.
As Shirō waited outside the Hokage's office, he scanned the group and suddenly froze.
His expression twisted slightly.
So this is how low the Hokage is willing to go...
A few meters away stood a middle-aged man with a straw hat. Calm, inconspicuous, and almost unremarkable—Kosuke Maruboshi, the "Eternal Genin."
Shirō had seen him once before, during training with Minato and the others, and his impression had been... intense.
At this point in time, Kosuke wasn't yet the elderly war veteran Naruto would one day meet. He was still in his prime. That meant stronger chakra, sharper instincts, and faster reactions—possibly even surpassing what was shown in the anime.
Shirō sighed internally.
They already sent Minato—the user of Flying Thunder God—and now Kosuke? This is just bullying.
Sending Minato was already borderline cheating, but Kosuke? That was a whole new level of shamelessness.
But tactically, it made sense.
Despite Kosuke's immense strength—capable of contending with elite Jōnin—he had little renown. He operated mostly along the borders, alone, wiping out small incursions before they made headlines. To the wider shinobi world, he was still just an old Genin with a record full of low-level missions.
He looked easy to bully.
And that made him perfect for the Chūnin Exams.
Shirō could almost pity the genin from other villages.
"Lighting a candle for you all in advance," Shirō murmured under his breath.