"Too much chakra that time… so now, I'll reduce the amount a little. And—balance, I need to keep balance…"
Naruto shut his eyes, replaying the sensation of his first failed step in his mind.
Then, opening them once more—
"Alright. This time should work."
Adjusting his output based on that earlier attempt, Naruto stepped toward the great tree again.
The first step landed firm. The bark held beneath his sandal, and joy flickered at the corner of his eyes.
But—
Crack!
The second step tore straight through the trunk again.
His expression stiffened. He quickly pushed off in the opposite direction, flipping lightly and landing back on the ground.
Thud.
"…Still too heavy?" He exhaled, frowning slightly. "The key is maintaining a constant flow. If I can't keep it steady… this is going to take longer than I thought."
Even if the initial step was correct, if the flow after that wavered—too much or too little—it inevitably ended with a shattered trunk or a painful fall.
"Looks like this can only be solved through endless practice."
Shaking out his arms, Naruto steadied himself, drew up chakra once again, and stepped forward.
Training was dull.
But for a shinobi, it was inescapable.
As that perverted sage in the original story had once said—
Those who can endure.
Those who learn to endure.
Only they can truly be called shinobi.
Not just enduring hardship from the world outside, but enduring the turbulence within one's own heart.
And for Naruto—
the next six or seven years would be the most crucial.
Whether he survived this cruel world—
whether he achieved his goal—
would depend on how far he could go during that span.
Engrossed in training, Naruto hardly noticed the passing of time. In his previous life, he had already been fascinated by these otherworldly powers. Now, with survival itself pressing down on him, his obsession only deepened.
Training.
Growing stronger.
It was his only path forward.
Yes, he carried the Nine-Tails within him. A cheat of sorts. But at this stage, he had no way of communicating with it. He had tried every method he could think of. Nothing worked.
So for now—he could only rely on himself.
And besides—his ultimate ambition was the peak of the shinobi world. For that, the Nine-Tails could only ever be an auxiliary force. His true strength had to be his own.
Hadn't the true legends of the story treated the Nine-Tails like little more than a pet?
Naruto understood this very clearly.
Tree-climbing.
Water-walking.
The simplest and most effective chakra control training.
But entry was the hardest step.
Especially with the Nine-Tails' chakra distorting his control, free manipulation was almost impossible. His first day of training was failure after failure—too much chakra, then too little.
Even when he anticipated the mistakes, he still ended up crashing down the trunk several times.
Luckily, this was his new body. Had it been his old one—
a few such falls would've landed him in a hospital. That last drop alone… in his previous life, it might have been fatal.
"…Haaah. That's enough for today."
As dusk deepened and fatigue seeped into his small frame, Naruto finally chose to stop.
He shook his head, golden hair gleaming brilliantly in the sunset.
Grabbing the bamboo basket he'd set aside, he peeked at the wild greens and fruits he'd gathered between practice. His little nose wrinkled, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Heh. Tonight, I can actually have an extra bite."
With that, he turned to leave. His figure stretched into a long shadow under the evening light, descending slowly down the hillside.
And behind him, the silent forest held only the scarred tree trunks, etched with his countless missteps.
At that moment—
the gears of fate began to turn.
Tree-climbing, water-walking, physical conditioning.
Naruto immersed himself in these drills without complaint.
And time slipped swiftly by.
Half a year later, his sixth birthday loomed.
Not that anyone in this world would remember it.
Not even the Third Hokage.
Or rather—especially not him.
For Naruto's birthday marked the night of the Nine-Tails' rampage.
The night the Fourth Hokage and his wife perished.
The night countless shinobi and villagers died.
No one wanted to remember that day.
Not even Hiruzen Sarutobi.
He never once appeared on Naruto's birthday.
And truth be told—since Minato's sacrifice six years ago, the village had sunk into decline once more. Hiruzen Sarutobi, resuming the Hokage's seat, found himself busier than ever—more so than even in his first reign.
That busyness was not only with outside threats, but internal tensions as well.
So for him to spare time to "visit" Naruto over the years—(though it was as much surveillance and testing as anything else)—was already rare.
But for Naruto, those visits were the last thing he wanted.
Because facing the kindly mask of the Third Hokage demanded the best of his acting. More than once, Naruto had felt sure he was about to be seen through.
Fortunately, certain "natural cover" had hidden his true feelings. And Hiruzen Sarutobi's real concern lay only in one question: did Naruto harbor hatred for the Leaf?
So long as the answer seemed to be "no," the old man's gaze remained relatively shallow.
This, coupled with Naruto's flawless performance—
"I'll be Hokage!"
"I want everyone to acknowledge me!"
—those noble, naïve words from the original story, now repurposed as his perfect disguise.
For Naruto, mimicking them was effortless.
But even if it was easy, each private meeting with Hiruzen Sarutobi still left him anxious, fearful of slipping.
Still—six years had passed.
And he had never once been caught.