Akira's POV
After setting my materials on the table, I settled into my chair and began reflecting on everything I could remember. Since the Kyubi attack happened one year ago, that means Naruto is currently one year old, and the news about him being the Nine-Tails' vessel hasn't spread among the civilian population yet.
I genuinely feel sorry for what Naruto will endure in the coming years. He'll be persecuted for being the Kyubi's vessel (a Jinchuriki, though civilians don't understand the distinction) forced to bear hatred for something he never chose. Many people claim the Third Hokage kept Naruto's parentage secret to protect him from further isolation, but honestly, who are we kidding? If the Third Hokage has access to the Telescope Jutsu and still doesn't know about most of the suffering happening in his village, then that's not protection,it's neglect bordering on torture.
However, dwelling on these matters won't help me now. I lack strength, and as a civilian, I'm essentially a stepping stone for those in positions of power. Only a few exceptional individuals have reached Kage level from civilian backgrounds, and Naruto's father, Minato Namikaze, was one of them. Though I suspect he had some clan connections, but that's a topic for another day.
"Now, how will I get stronger?" I murmured to myself.
Ever since unlocking my previous life's knowledge, I've noticed I possess a considerably high IQ. It's probably not on par with Shikamaru's yet, but with proper training, I believe it can improve further. Since I haven't unlocked my chakra yet, I'll focus on physical conditioning. I can also help my father knead dough for the bakery, which should improve my arm strength and finger dexterity.
I'll start with OPM's training regimen: one hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, one hundred squats, and a ten-kilometer run. If I have energy remaining afterward, I can practice basic karate katas to improve my motor coordination and muscle memory.
After setting these physical training goals for the coming days, I turned my attention to the calligraphy set. I carefully laid the Shitajiki on the floor, placed a low tea table on top, then positioned the Hanshi paper precisely. I set the Bunchin weights to keep the paper in place and arranged the Fude brushes (one large and one small) beside the paper. Since I didn't want to make a mess in my room and face my mother's wrath (which, trust me is not good for a young innocent me I will let that be reserved for father), I secured the ink pot firmly to prevent any spills.
3rd POV
Down in the bakery, Kenji paused while preparing to put a fresh batch of bread into the oven, suddenly feeling an inexplicable chill run down his spine. Something felt off, as if someone was plotting against him. He glanced nervously toward the cash counter where his wife was working. Yuki noticed his gaze and smiled warmly at him. Relieved that she wasn't the source of his unease, Kenji returned to his baking with a slight shake of his head.
Akira's POV
Once my setup was complete, I began practicing calligraphy, which in this world follows the same principles as traditional Japanese calligraphy. The knowledge from my past life includes proficiency in various languages: Sanskrit, English, Japanese, and Hindi. I had been well-versed in all of them, so relearning them shouldn't be too difficult.
I'm particularly interested in Fuinjutsu (i.e sealing jutsu) which I consider one of the most overpowered abilities in this world. I've been planning this path for a while now. The primary requirement for mastering Fuinjutsu is excellence in calligraphy, which I possessed in my previous life. Regaining those skills will take time, but I'm nothing if not patient. The second requirement is linguistic versatility, which I clearly have. Finally, you need exceptional intelligence, and I believe I meet that criterion as well. I want to experiment with different languages, particularly Sanskrit, which is considered the language of the gods in ancient Indian mythology. The possibilities excite me tremendously.
As I practiced, time slipped away unnoticed. Before I knew it, it was lunchtime, something I would have completely forgotten if not for my mother's call from downstairs.
I carefully set down my brush and headed downstairs to join my family.
Final Word Count: 702 words
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