Naruto practiced hand seals not just to memorize them—but to understand them. Only by grasping the underlying principles of Ninjutsu could he begin to streamline their usage. Fast and efficient seals meant faster techniques, and faster techniques meant survival.
He didn't want to end up like his original self—relying on the all-purpose Rasengan alone. Sure, the Rasengan was powerful, but its flaws were obvious: no ranged use, no seal component, and a reliance on brute force. If not for the Nine-Tails sealed inside him—and the so-called protagonist's halo—Naruto would've died countless times.
Take Kakashi Hatake, for example. In the original story, he earned the nickname Kakashi of the Sharingan, but among fans, he was also known jokingly as Kakashi the Five-Five—five attacks per fight, five minutes of screentime!
But that was because Kakashi knew a ton of Ninjutsu. He had strategies for every situation and enemies of all types. His versatile arsenal made him a master tactician.
He became a Genin at five, a Chūnin at six, a Jōnin at twelve, and at thirteen, he even created the Chidori, a jutsu strong enough to pierce through lightning itself. That move was eventually refined into the Lightning Blade, an S-rank technique. The original Chidori was already A-rank!
By all accounts, Kakashi was a super genius.
But after the tragedy with Obito, his growth stagnated. Despite all his talent, he never crossed the threshold into true Kage-level strength. Why?
Part of it was the Sharingan. Unlike Uchiha, non-Uchiha like Kakashi couldn't deactivate it. It constantly drained his chakra reserves, turning him into a chakra glutton. But the real problem wasn't just the eye.
It was Kakashi's state of mind. After Obito's death, he grew numb—emotionally hollow. He buried himself in Jiraiya's adult novels and let go of the Hatake sword style, once a proud family technique.
Still, Kakashi's talent couldn't be denied.
As for Naruto, he chuckled inwardly.
"Chakra? I've got enough to call it 'Chakra Release: Nuclear Bomb Style!'"
Inside his body was a massive power bank—untapped, for now.
He remained curious about the Nine-Tails. With his current mental strength, he should've been able to enter his mindscape and confront the beast. But for some reason, it hadn't happened yet. He suspected the Nine-Tails simply didn't want to see him.
That was fine. Naruto wasn't in a rush. He would focus on getting stronger first—there'd be time to deal with the fox later.
The day moved on. Iruka's theory class ended, followed by another taught by Mizuki.
Unlike Iruka's class, Mizuki's was even duller—straight textbook droning. It didn't take long before Shikamaru, Choji, and even Kiba started nodding off.
Mizuki, unlike Iruka, didn't dare scold the students. Many of them were heirs of noble clans, and he couldn't afford to offend them. But when his eyes landed on Naruto, they brimmed with thinly veiled malice.
Still, he had nothing to latch onto. Naruto sat quietly, eyes forward, seemingly paying attention.
In truth, Naruto was using the time to practice his hand seals and mentally digest everything he'd read.
As long as chakra wasn't being channeled, hand seal practice was harmless. But forming random seals while moving chakra could be dangerous—at best, causing temporary chakra exhaustion, and at worst, damaging your meridians or even blowing off a limb.
The afternoon was dedicated to practical training, which was Naruto's comfort zone.
In Kunai and Shuriken exercises, Naruto performed above average. Sasuke, of course, led the class with near-perfect aim. Still, Naruto noticed something odd: Sasuke kept sneaking glances at him.
Don't tell me he's... interested? Naruto thought, shivering at the implication.
He quickly shook the thought away. That was not happening.
Next came combat sparring.
Naruto's opponent? Inuzuka Kiba.
At first, Kiba was full of bravado, declaring loudly that he'd wipe the floor with Naruto. But within a few minutes, Naruto had him pinned flat on his back.
Kiba sat up, dazed. He wasn't angry—he was impressed.
Naruto's offense and defense were tight. Clean, efficient. Kiba felt like Naruto hadn't even used his full strength, as if he'd been holding back to avoid embarrassing him.
Strangely, that only made Kiba like Naruto more.
Even Iruka couldn't help but nod in approval. Naruto's technique was solid, his moves sharp. The only area he seemed to lack in was stamina—but Iruka didn't realize that Naruto was only pretending to be tired.
Even so, Naruto's performance was already outstanding. If he hadn't exposed a bit of his strength during the spar with Sasuke, he would've continued to fly under the radar—hovering somewhere around the top five in the class rankings.
He wasn't worried about attracting the Third Hokage's attention either. For an "ordinary orphan" with no clan background and no mentor, being among the top was already seen as impressive. No one would suspect that he was deliberately hiding his true capabilities.
Even the ANBU assigned to monitor him didn't seem suspicious. After all, his growth could be chalked up to "unusual determination." That, and the ridiculous talent granted by his hidden trump card—Heaven Rewards Diligence.
Naruto didn't have a system interface or cheat menu like in those transmigration stories, but the effects of his ability were just as satisfying. It was like having a passive tenfold experience boost. The harder he trained, the faster he improved—and Naruto loved the grind.
After classes ended for the day, he once again made his way to the training grounds behind the academy. As he ran through the forest trail, he couldn't shake off a familiar feeling—he was being watched.
Activating Kagura's Mind Eye, a high-level sensory technique that he had only recently begun grasping, Naruto swept the area with his perception.
To his surprise, only one chakra signature was nearby. The usual pair of ANBU watchers had been reduced to just one.
Did I earn more of the Third Hokage's trust?
He didn't think much of it. If they were easing surveillance, all the better.
Naruto dashed through the woods, his goal clear: solo training. But just as he neared his usual clearing, a sound caught his attention—sharp and rhythmic, echoing from nearby.
Curious, Naruto followed the noise. About two hundred meters away, in a smaller clearing, a young boy was drenched in sweat, shouting with each motion:
"One thousand three hundred ninety-seven! One thousand three hundred ninety-eight! One thou—"
The kid didn't stop. His voice was his metronome, driving him through the pain.
Naruto tilted his head slightly, intrigued.
He looked about six or seven, younger than most of the students at the academy, but his aura was unmistakable. Bowl-cut hair, thick eyebrows, a slightly yellow-stained white shirt... He wasn't in his iconic outfit yet, but Naruto immediately recognized him.
Rock Lee.
Even without the ridiculous green jumpsuit or the full Might Guy energy, Naruto knew who this was. The sheer willpower pouring off him was proof enough.
Lee hadn't even entered the main story yet, but his hard work had already begun.
Naruto felt a ripple of admiration rise within him.
Hard work... deserves respect.
In the original timeline, Rock Lee had once defeated Sasuke during their first encounter. And later, by opening the Fifth Gate—Gate of Closing—he reached a level that could rival a Jōnin, even if temporarily. He lost to Gaara in the Chūnin Exams, sure, but that was only because Gaara was a monster who had already killed multiple Jōnin by the age of twelve.
That time was a golden period of growth. Naruto himself had gone from rookie Genin to elite Chūnin-level in just a few months, even learning the Rasengan.
Sasuke had improved in parallel, mastering the Chidori and awakening deeper levels of the Sharingan. In terms of raw power, both had exceeded the average elite Chūnin.
Of course, that was before his arrival changed the world.
The butterfly's wings had already started flapping—and reality was beginning to shift.
Naruto watched as Lee transitioned from squats to rapid-fire punches. Sweat sprayed with every jab, his movements full of heart—but inefficient.
Too much energy wasted on form... too little focus on muscle control.
With Heaven Rewards Diligence and his recent comprehension of basic Taijutsu, Naruto already had some insights. Training blindly wasn't enough—precision mattered.
Still, he respected the boy's drive.
Naruto took a step forward.
"Hey there! Mind if I interrupt you for a moment?"
His voice rang out clearly.
Lee paused, surprised. He looked up to see a boy about his age standing nearby, gazing at him with calm, deep eyes and a quiet confidence that couldn't be faked.
...
TN:
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