[ Ken Shimura POV ]
The Academy dismissed at three in the afternoon, which gave me roughly four hours before Aunt Yuki got home from her shift at the hospital. Four hours to find a practice spot and figure out this tree walking technique.
But first, I need to buy some groceries for dinner.
The walk home took me through the commercial district again. Fewer people now, the lunch rush over, merchants starting to think about closing up for the day. I stopped at a small grocery stall and spent 180 ryo on rice, vegetables, and a cheap cut of pork. Enough to make dinner and have leftovers. Aunt Yuki worked long shifts, and cooking was the least I could do.
The apartment was empty as usual, when I got back. I put the groceries away, changed out of my Academy uniform into something I could move in—dark pants, a grey shirt, nothing that would stand out. Then I grabbed a water bottle, stretched for five minutes to loosen up, and headed back out.
Finding a practice spot turned out to be easier than expected.
Training Ground 17 sat on the eastern edge of the village, far enough from the main areas that it didn't see heavy use. My memories told me it was mostly unbothered and had no one passing by. Even if I do get caught, I could say it was something I overheard genins talking about, with each other.
The walk took twenty minutes. Training Ground 17 was marked by a simple wooden post with the number carved into it, the paint faded from weather and age.
I stepped off the path and into the clearing.
It was perfect. Trees surrounded the space on all sides, tall enough that they filtered the afternoon sunlight into scattered patches. The ground was dirt packed hard from years of shinobi feet. Kunai marks scarred several tree trunks, and I spotted what looked like burn marks on a boulder near the far edge—someone practicing fire jutsu way back, probably.
No people. No sounds except birds and wind through leaves.
I approached the nearest tree, a thick oak with rough bark and branches starting about fifteen feet up. The system's knowledge sat in my head, clear and complete. I knew the theory, understood the mechanics, could visualize the chakra flow required.
Now I just had to actually do it.
The technique was deceptively simple in concept: channel chakra to your feet, maintain a constant flow, use that flow to adhere to the surface. Too little chakra and you'd slip. Too much and you'd repel yourself away from the surface. The trick was finding the exact balance, then holding it steady.
I placed my right foot against the tree trunk at about knee height and focused.
Chakra moved through my body's pathways like water through pipes, flowing from my core down through my leg to my foot. I could feel it pooling there, warm and present. I pushed it out through the soles of my feet, trying to match the mental image the system had given me.
My foot stuck to the bark.
For about half a second.
Then the chakra flow stuttered, I lost the balance, and gravity reasserted itself. I stumbled backward, catching myself before I fell.
"Okay, it's not going to be that easy" I muttered.
I tried again. Right foot against the tree, chakra flowing down, pushing out through the sole. Stick. Hold. One second. Two seconds. Three—
The flow spiked, too much chakra all at once, and I blasted myself backward. I hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of my lungs, dirt scraping my palms where I caught myself.
"Fuck"
This was going to take practice.
I stood up, brushed the dirt off my hands, and approached the tree again. The system had given me knowledge, but knowledge wasn't the same as skill. I still needed to train my body to maintain that precise chakra flow without conscious thought.
Third attempt.
Five seconds before I lost it and fell.
Fourth attempt. Seven seconds.
Fifth attempt. I tried putting both feet on the tree at once and immediately repelled myself backward so hard I nearly hit the tree behind me.
Sixth attempt.
The sun drifted across the sky as I worked tirelessly. Sweat soaked through my shirt. My chakra reserves started to feel strained. Each attempt drained a small amount, and the cumulative effect was adding up.
But I was improving.
Ten seconds. Fifteen. Twenty.
My legs started shaking from the effort of maintaining the technique. The chakra flow wanted to fluctuate, my body wanted to fall, gravity wanted to win.
Thirty seconds. Forty.
My chakra reserves felt dangerously low now, that hollow feeling in my core that meant I was running on empty. But the system's quest required sixty seconds. I just needed to hold on a little longer.
Fifty seconds.
My right foot slipped. I adjusted, overcorrected, felt the chakra spike. Both feet lost adhesion simultaneously.
I hit the ground back-first, all the air leaving my lungs in a rush. Stars burst across my vision. For a moment I just lay there, staring up at the sky, wondering if I'd broken anything important.
Everything hurt, but nothing felt broken.
I sat up slowly, checking the system timer out of habit.
Fifty-three seconds. Seven seconds short.
"A progress it's then. If I can achieve 53 seconds, then why not 60"
My chakra reserves were too depleted to try again today. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones, that particular tiredness that came from pushing chakra control too hard. If I tried to force another attempt, I'd probably just hurt myself.
The smart thing to do was rest, recover, come back tomorrow.
I stood up, my legs protesting the movement, and looked at the tree. Fifty-three seconds. Not bad for a first day, honestly. The knowledge the system had given me had let me skip weeks of trial and error, but I still needed to build the actual skill.
Tomorrow I'd get those last seven seconds.
. . . .
The walk back to the apartment took longer than the walk out. My legs felt like they were made of jelly, and my chakra reserves were so low I could barely feel them. This was dangerous in its own way—depleted shinobi were vulnerable shinobi. If someone decided to attack me right now, I'd be screwed.
But only a moron would think of attacking me.
I made it back to the apartment without incident, let myself in, and immediately collapsed on my bed.
My body wanted to sleep. My mind was still running calculations.
Four days to complete the quest. I'd need to attempt the tree walking at least once more, maybe twice to be safe. That meant finding time after Academy classes, maintaining my cover as a mediocre student, avoiding questions about where I was going or what I was doing.
And after that? The system would give me another quest.
The pattern was clear enough. Complete quests, get gacha pulls, acquire abilities and knowledge faster than normal training could provide. Each reward would make me stronger, more capable, better equipped to survive this world.
The front door opened. Aunt Yuki's voice called out, tired but warm.
"Ken? You home?"
"Yeah" I called back, forcing myself to sit up.
She appeared in the doorway a moment later, still in her nurse's uniform, her dark hair pulled back in a practical bun. She looked exhausted, the kind of bone-deep tiredness that came from a twelve-hour shift dealing with injuries and illnesses. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and I noticed she was favoring her left foot slightly, standing all day for sure.
"How was Academy?" she asked, already moving toward her room to change.
"Fine. Same as usual, boring" I replied, then glanced at her "Is everything alright with your foot?"
She smiled despite the fatigue "It's nothing, just sore from standing around all day"
She disappeared into her room, then emerged in civilian clothes, hair down, looking less like a hospital nurse "Did you eat?"
"Had ramen for lunch. Got groceries for dinner"
She blinked.
"We were out of rice"
"Huh." She studied me for a moment, like she was trying to figure out if I'd been replaced by a clone. Then she shrugged, ready to get up "Alright. What are we making?"
"Fried rice. You can sit down"
"I can help—"
"You've been standing for twelve hours. Let me do it"
She opened her mouth to argue, then apparently decided she was too tired "Fine. But I'm doing dishes after."
We settled into a routine—me cooking, her sitting at the table and complaining about work. The chunin with the broken rib had apparently tried to flirt with one of the other nurses while coughing up blood. The new doctor kept filling out paperwork wrong. The hospital cat had stolen someone's lunch again.
I plated the food and sat down across from her. She took a bite, made a small approving sound.
"Your mother used to make this" she said after a moment "Your father always said she put in too many vegetables"
The comment came out of nowhere. Aunt Yuki didn't talk about my parents often—only when something reminded her, and usually in these small kind gestures by me.
"Did she?" I asked, taking a bite.
"Yeah. He'd complain and then eat three bowls anyway" A faint smile adorned her face "Couldn't say no to her. Can he?"
I nodded, not sure what to say to that. The memories associated with my parents were too fragmented to feel real, just impressions of warmth and safety that belonged to someone else.
We ate in comfortable silence for a while. Aunt Yuki looked half-asleep, bringing food to her mouth while her mind was probably still at the hospital work next day. Once I become a genin, I can offer some money to get our conditions a lot better than this one.
I can't let her die of exhaustion like past me would have possibly.
"You've been acting different today, did something happen?" she asked all of a sudden.
I kept my expression neutral, and matched her gaze "Different how?"
"Cooking on your own, and cleaning the home. Buying groceries without being asked" She gestured vaguely with her chopsticks.
"Maybe I'm just growing up."
"Maybe" She didn't sound convinced "You're not in trouble, are you?"
"No"
"Not sick?"
"No"
"Not trying to cover up for something?"
"..."
She gave me a flat look "Ken"
"I'm fine. Really" I pushed rice around my plate. "Graduation exams are coming up. So, I just wanted to be disciplined about it"
She was quiet for a moment, studying me with those tired but perceptive eyes. Finally, she nodded "Alright. Just don't push yourself too hard"
"I'll be careful"
"Good" She finished her rice, then stood to take her plate to the sink despite my earlier insistence "I'm taking a bath and passing out. Try not to stay awake all night"
"No promises)"
She snorted, almost-smiled, and headed for the bathroom.
I cleaned up the kitchen, updated my training log, and tried not to think too hard about the fact that Aunt Yuki had raised me for thirteen years on a nurse's salary when she could've just sent me to the orphanage.
The original Ken probably hadn't appreciated that enough.
I would.
After dinner, I cleaned up while Aunt Yuki took a bath. By the time she went to bed, it was barely eight o'clock, exhaustion pulling her under almost immediately.
I sat in my room, staring at the ceiling, feeling my chakra reserves slowly refilling. The depletion would take hours to fully recover from. Tomorrow I'd need to be careful not to push too hard, to leave enough chakra, to walk back home like a dignified man.
The system chimed softly.
[[ Daily Recovery Status: Chakra 34% - Physical Stamina 67% - Mental Clarity 89% ]]
[[ Recommended Rest Period: 6-8 hours ]]
I stared at the notification. The system was tracking my recovery, my progress, even offering suggestions. This was more than just a quest dispenser—it was actively analyzing my performance, identifying weaknesses, recommending improvements.
Chakra capacity expansion exercises. I knew what those were from Ken's memories—basically meditation techniques combined with physical exertions designed to gradually increase the total amount of chakra your body could hold and recover. The Academy taught the basics, but most students didn't bother with them seriously until they became genin and realized their reserves were inadequate for real missions.
If I started now, I'd have better grasps on jutsus later on.
I pulled out a notebook—one of the cheap ones sold at the Academy supply shop—and started writing. Not a diary, exactly. More like a training log. What I'd practiced today, what had worked, what hadn't. The progress on tree walking. The chakra depletion rate. The system's recommendations.
Information was power. Documentation meant I could track patterns, identify improvements, spot problems before they became critical.
By the time I finished writing, my chakra reserves had climbed to maybe forty percent. Still low, but better. I could feel the difference, that slight warmth in my core that meant I wasn't running on empty anymore.
I lay back on the bed, closing my eyes, letting my body relax. Tomorrow I'd go through Academy classes again, maintain my cover, then head back to Training Ground 17 for another attempt at tree walking. Three more days after that to complete the quest.
Plenty of time.
Sleep pulled at me, heavy and insistent. I let it take me, falling into darkness with the system's interface still glowing faintly in my mind's eye.
---
The next day followed the same pattern. Academy classes in the morning—taijutsu drills that left my already-sore muscles screaming, a lecture on the proper way to throw kunai that I barely paid attention to, a quiz on village history that I aced without effort.
During Lunch break, Takeshi Yamada sat next to me at one of the Academy's outdoor tables, wolfing down rice balls like he was in a competition. The guy never seemed to eat at a normal pace—everything was energy and motion with him.
"You look terrible" he said conversationally, mouth half full.
No preamble, no tact. That was Takeshi, apparently.
"Thanks"
"Seriously, though. You sick or something? You've been moving weird all day." He gestured with a half-eaten rice ball, nearly dropping it.
I'd been trying to hide the soreness from yesterday's training, but apparently not well enough "Just pushed myself too hard yesterday. I'll be fine"
"See, that's your problem right there." Takeshi pointed the rice ball at me like it was a kunai "You can't just randomly decide to train hard one day when you've been lazing away for months. You gotta build up to it, man. Consistent progress and all that stuff Iruka-sensei keeps going on about"
The advice was surprisingly sound coming from someone who'd literally fallen through his own roof trying to greet me this morning "I'll keep that in mind."
"You better. Can't have you dying before next week." He finished the rice ball and immediately grabbed another one. The guy had at least six of them lined up. "There's that taijutsu competition—the one Iruka-sensei announced yesterday. Monthly thing. You entering?"
I searched Ken's memories and found it—a monthly Academy competition for each year's classes. Students could sign up to spar in brackets, and the winners got bragging rights plus some small prize. I'd never entered before.
"Hadn't really thought about it," I said carefully.
"Well, start thinking about it!" Takeshi said with the enthusiasm of someone who'd already made up his mind and wanted everyone else to join in. "It's good practice, it's not like the stakes are that high—just Academy students beating the crap out of each other for fun—and the prize is actually decent this time. Iruka-sensei said something about a kunai set for the top three"
Maybe I should participate in this. Not for steel but for bronze or silver.
"Also," Takeshi continued, leaning back and grinning, "I'm entering, and I need someone to train with this week. My usual partner—you know Hiroshi, the guy with the weird eyebrows?—he's out sick. Food poisoning or something. Which means I need a new training buddy, and you're right here, so..." He spread his hands like this was the most logical conclusion in the world.
Training with Takeshi would mean maintaining social connections, blending in, looking like a normal student preparing for a normal competition. It would also eat into my time for the system quest.
The old Ken had been solitary but not a complete hermit—he'd sparred with classmates, participated in group exercises when required.
And honestly, taijutsu practice wouldn't hurt. The system was giving me knowledge and abilities, but actual combat experience was something else entirely.
"Where" I said.
"Tomorrow after Academy?" Takeshi's grin widened, clearly pleased he'd gotten me to agree. "There's a spot near Training Ground 3 that's usually empty around that time"
"Sounds good"
"Awesome!" He stood up, somehow still full of energy despite having just eaten six rice balls. "Meet you at the Academy gates after class. And hey, maybe do some stretching tonight? So you don't show up tomorrow moving like someone's grandpa."
"It's still too early for that" I said dryly.
"Good man!" Takeshi clapped me on the shoulder hard enough to make my sore muscles protest "Alright, I'm gonna go throw stones at targets until someone tells me to stop. Gotta work on my accuracy before I work on punching things. You coming?"
"Nah. Got some stuff to take care of."
He waved and headed off toward the training yard, leaving me alone with my thoughts and an empty lunch box.
The Academy let out at three again. I went home, changed, grabbed my water bottle, and headed straight for Training Ground 17.
My chakra reserves had recovered fully overnight, and the soreness from yesterday had faded to a dull ache. Manageable. I could work through it.
The training ground was empty again when I arrived. Same trees, same scarred targets, same peaceful isolation.
I approached my tree—I'd started thinking of it as mine after yesterday—and placed my foot against the bark.
Chakra flowed. My foot stuck. I brought up the second foot, balancing the flows, holding steady.
Both feet adhered. I stood horizontal on the tree trunk, my body defying gravity through nothing but chakra control.
The system timer appeared in my vision.
[[ Tree Walking Duration: 0:00 ]]
The seconds ticked up. Ten. Twenty. Thirty.
My legs started shaking at forty-five seconds, the same point where I'd failed yesterday. But my chakra reserves were full today, my body rested. I had more to give.
Fifty seconds. Fifty-five. Fifty-eight.
My right foot slipped, chakra flow disrupted by a momentary lapse in concentration. I compensated, but overcorrected—both feet lost adhesion.
I dropped, hitting the ground on my feet this time, already frustrated.
Fifty-eight seconds. Two seconds closer than yesterday, but still short.
"Damn it."
I tried again immediately. The second attempt lasted forty-two seconds before my chakra control wavered. Third attempt: fifty-one seconds. Fourth: fifty-five.
By the sixth attempt, my chakra reserves were starting to feel the strain again. Not as bad as yesterday—my body was adapting, learning to manage the expenditure more efficiently.
Seventh attempt. I focused harder this time, really concentrating on maintaining that perfect balance. The chakra flowed steady, my feet stuck firm, my body held horizontal.
Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. Fifty. Fifty-five. Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine.
Sixty.
[[ Tree Walking Duration: 60 seconds achieved ]]
[[ Note: Quest requires consistent performance. Single success insufficient. Continue training. ]]
I let myself drop, breathing hard. The system wanted consistency, not a lucky break. That made sense—any genin instructor would expect the same thing. Being able to do something once didn't mean you'd mastered it.
I needed to be able to hit sixty seconds reliably, multiple times in a row.
I stayed in the training ground for another hour, pushing myself through more attempts. The goal was consistency—being able to hit that sixty-second mark repeatedly without relying on luck or perfect conditions.
Eighth attempt: sixty-two seconds before I let myself drop intentionally.
Ninth attempt: fifty-four seconds. The fatigue was setting in.
Tenth attempt: sixty-one seconds.
By the time I called it quits, my chakra reserves were down to maybe thirty percent, and my legs felt like jelly. But I'd hit the sixty-second mark three times out of ten attempts. Progress, even if it wasn't complete mastery yet.
The walk home was slower, my body protesting every step. I was pushing hard, maybe too hard, but I had a deadline. Four days total, and this was only day two. I needed to finish this quest to see what Silver tier rewards offered.
The walk home took me through the market district again. I stopped at a bookshop, browsing the shelves with casual interest. They had some Academy textbooks, basic jutsu theory, civilian novels. Nothing particularly useful, but it never hurt to see what information was publicly available.
I made it back to the apartment with an hour to spare before Aunt Yuki got home. Enough time to clean up, start dinner prep, maybe do some chakra circulation exercises to help with recovery.
I pulled out my notebook and updated my training log. Day two progress on tree walking: hit sixty seconds three times out of ten attempts. Chakra expenditure still too high for consistent performance. Need to work on efficiency, not just raw execution.
Tomorrow: Academy classes, training with Takeshi, another session at Training Ground 17. Two more days to complete the quest.
I closed the notebook and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My chakra reserves had climbed back to maybe forty percent. The soreness in my legs had faded to a dull ache.
Aunt Yuki had raised me for thirteen years when she didn't have to. The original Ken probably hadn't thought much about that like how most teenagers didn't appreciate what they had until it was gone.
I wouldn't make that mistake.