The wooden floor of the academy training hall creaked under bare feet. The smell of dust and chalk powder mixed in the air, carried by the chatter of children still too young to understand what war looked like.
Daigo sat cross-legged near the edge, his gaze scanning the room.
Even after months in this small body, he still hated the way his legs felt shorter, his reach smaller. His muscles were lean, not the battle-forged frame he once had. But the discipline was still there the ability to watch, to measure, to break an opponent before the fight even began.
On the far side of the room, Instructor Hoshino clapped his hands. "Alright, today we're pairing up for sparring. Remember no lethal blows, and control your chakra. This is training, not a mission."
Daigo's eyes narrowed. Control your chakra. That was the one thing he hadn't fully grasped yet. The way shinobi moved, the way their strikes carried weight beyond muscle it was all tied to this strange energy. Back on Earth, power came from leverage, timing, and precision. Here, it came from those plus something else.
"Renzaki Daigo," Hoshino called. "You're with… Saito Genma."
The boy who stepped forward was taller, broad-shouldered for his age, with the smug confidence of someone used to winning. His forehead protector gleamed a gift from his older brother, no doubt.
"Try to keep up," Genma said, rolling his shoulders.
Daigo rose to his feet in silence. He didn't bother with a reply.
They stepped onto the mat. The other students shuffled back, forming a loose ring. Some whispered bets.
The stance Genma took was loose, almost lazy the kind of posture that could hide sudden movement. Daigo recognized it as something between the standard Leaf guard and a street brawler's swagger.
The whistle blew.
Genma lunged first, a straightforward punch aimed at Daigo's chest.
Too linear.
Daigo stepped offline, the same way he had done thousands of times in the octagon. His small fist snapped forward, aiming for the liver a human weak point that existed in every world.
But before impact, Genma twisted unnaturally fast, his body seeming to glide as if pushed by wind. Daigo's strike missed by a hair, and Genma's heel came whipping around.
A roundhouse kick. Sharp, fast, precise.
Daigo brought his forearm up, absorbing the blow. Even with the block, the impact rattled his bones.
Chakra reinforcement… so that's what it feels like.
Genma grinned. "What's wrong, slowpoke?"
Daigo didn't answer. He adjusted his stance, lowering his center of gravity. The next exchange came fast Genma throwing a flurry of punches, Daigo slipping and weaving through them, testing distance.
The boy's technique was good better than Daigo expected from an academy student. But there were gaps. His guard dropped slightly after his right hook. His weight shifted too far forward on certain feints. On Earth, Daigo would have ended it already.
But here…
Genma suddenly exhaled sharply, and Daigo felt the pressure change. A burst of speed his opponent's fist shot forward like a bullet.
This time, Daigo couldn't slip in time. The punch landed against his ribs, sending a shock of pain through his side. The crowd cheered.
Daigo staggered back two steps, one hand brushing the sore spot.
So that was the difference. Chakra didn't just make them faster it made every strike heavier, more punishing.
But he wasn't done.
The moment Genma came in again, Daigo stepped forward instead of back. Their foreheads nearly collided Daigo's knee drove upward into Genma's gut. The taller boy folded slightly, air rushing out of his lungs.
Daigo's left hook followed, not to the head, but to the inside of Genma's thigh a low-line attack shinobi rarely guarded against.
Genma stumbled, his balance broken. Daigo swept his supporting leg and brought him to the mat.
Gasps rose from the crowd.
Instructor Hoshino stepped in. "Match over!"
Genma rolled to his knees, glaring. "You fight like a thug."
Daigo met his glare calmly. "I fight to win."
Hoshino's expression was unreadable, but Daigo caught the faintest hint of approval in the man's eyes. "Renzaki stay after class. We need to talk."
The lesson continued with other pairs, but Daigo's mind was already turning over what he'd learned.
Chakra reinforcement was the key. Without it, his techniques could only carry a fraction of their potential here. But learning to channel it would take time and time was something he planned to use better than anyone else in this village.
When class ended, Hoshino called him over. The rest of the students filtered out, some giving him sidelong glances.
"You're not from a shinobi family, are you?" the instructor asked.
"No."
"And yet your body movement is… unusual. Not Leaf Style."
Daigo shrugged. "I learned elsewhere."
Hoshino studied him for a long moment. "You have potential. But your techniques lack chakra integration. Without that, you'll hit a ceiling very quickly."
"I'll learn."
"That's easy to say. Harder to do. Chakra control takes years, and even then…" The man trailed off, then reached into his desk. "Here. This is a beginner's conditioning scroll for taijutsu specialists. Basic drills. Do them until they become second nature."
Daigo accepted the scroll with both hands. "Thank you."
Hoshino gave a faint smile. "Don't thank me yet. You'll curse my name after the first week."
That night, Daigo sat in his small rented room, unrolling the scroll. The diagrams showed stances, footwork drills, repetitive strikes nothing he hadn't done before in some form. But the key difference was the chakra flow diagrams drawn alongside each motion.
He traced the patterns with his finger, committing them to memory.
On Earth, he had spent his life mastering the human body. Here, he would master something more.
The path would be long. But that didn't matter.
He was starting at the bottom again and that was exactly where he wanted to be.