🍥 Naruto: The Little Young Teacher
Ren returned home as the sun dipped lower over Konohagakure, its orange glow stretching across tiled rooftops and narrow streets. His house stood in a quiet residential corner, modest yet comfortable, bearing a strong resemblance to the two-story homes seen years later in the Boruto era.
It had once belonged to his parents.
The house carried warmth despite their absence. A small garden rested behind it, carefully maintained by hired help paid through inheritance funds. Two shops in the market district had also been left in his name, and their monthly rent ensured he would never have to worry about survival as a civilian.
"I'm three years old and already financially stable," Ren muttered as he unlocked the door. "At least something in this world isn't trying to kill me."
He stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. The wooden floor creaked faintly beneath his small feet.
Then his eyes shifted.
The Rikugan activated naturally.
Walls dissolved before his perception—not physically, but in clarity. Distance meant little. His enhanced vision pierced through structures and trees, stretching toward a nearby training ground.
Several shinobi were practicing there.
Ren leaned against the wall, fascinated.
Through his Six Eyes variant, he saw chakra like rivers of light flowing through their coils. He saw how it gathered in their lungs before being expelled. He saw hand seals trigger precise pathways inside the body, converting intent into technique.
One jonin inhaled deeply.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
The chakra surged from stomach to chest to mouth in a clean, practiced pattern. Flames erupted outward, bright and forceful.
Ren's pupils contracted slightly.
"So that's how the compression works…" he whispered.
Another shinobi practiced a wind technique, his chakra vibrating rapidly along thinner pathways before releasing in a slicing arc.
Ren watched.
He memorized.
He analyzed.
Every fluctuation, every inefficiency, every wasted drop of energy was recorded inside his mind with terrifying accuracy.
"It's super easy," he murmured, almost disappointed. "Hah. These eyes are going to be my path to strength."
He could replicate the chakra patterns instantly if he wanted. But he didn't move.
Even with a Strong Body enhancement, he was still only three years old. His chakra reserves were small and unstable. Attempting jutsu recklessly would be foolish.
"I haven't even refined my chakra properly yet," he reminded himself. "No need to rush."
Still, excitement bubbled within him.
He could have waited. He could have refined his control first and copied techniques later. But like a child who had just received his favorite toy, he couldn't resist trying it immediately.
"Sigh… I really am a kid," Ren chuckled softly. "But who can resist cool eyes? That's every man's dream."
Satisfied for now, he walked toward the garden behind his house.
The air smelled of soil and fresh leaves. His small frame disappeared into the quiet greenery, and he changed into simple training clothes designed for mobility.
Then he began.
Push-ups.
At first, his arms trembled under his body weight. But the Strong Body enhancement compensated, stabilizing his muscles and increasing recovery speed. He pushed through steadily.
One.
Ten.
Thirty.
Sweat formed along his forehead.
He switched to squats next, focusing on controlled breathing. Each downward motion built his thighs and reinforced joint strength.
"I refuse to be one of those chakra-dependent glass cannons," he muttered between breaths.
Frog jumps followed, explosive and taxing. Then crunches to strengthen his core. He added planks, holding position far longer than any normal three-year-old ever could.
The sun lowered further.
By the time he finished, his entire body ached in a satisfying way.
Ren walked back inside and washed himself thoroughly. Cold water cascaded down his small frame, soothing overheated muscles.
After changing into clean clothes, he stepped back into the village streets.
His destination was simple.
A barbecue restaurant.
Yakiniku Q buzzed with evening chatter, the scent of grilled meat filling the air. Shinobi and civilians alike gathered around tables, laughing and sharing stories.
Ren climbed into a seat with surprising confidence.
The waiter blinked at him. "Eating alone again, Ren-kun?"
"Yes," Ren replied calmly. "And I want extra portions today."
The waiter laughed. "Growing boy, huh?"
"You have no idea."
Plates of meat arrived—beef, pork, skewers glistening with sauce. Ren devoured them steadily. His enhanced metabolism demanded more nutrients than a normal child's.
Because of his training and strengthened physique, he consumed far more than expected for his age.
"Hah," he mumbled between bites. "At this rate, I might rival Hinata and Mitsuri in eating."
A nearby customer chuckled. "Ambitious kid."
Ren only grinned.
After finishing and paying with funds from his allowance, he returned home under the dim glow of lanterns.
He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
"System," he called quietly. "What's Hinata's status?"
The translucent screen appeared instantly.
(Hinata Hyūga has been receiving training from the Hyūga Clan. However, they are beginning to grow disappointed in her progress.)
Ren closed his eyes thoughtfully.
"Hmm… good."
The system remained silent.
"Let them be fully disappointed," he continued softly. "When they stop focusing on her, that's when I'll step in."
He rolled onto his side.
"Until then, I'll build my foundation."
He refused to become a typical assassin dependent solely on chakra. In this world, once chakra ran dry, most ninja became fragile.
"Ninja are too weak without chakra," he muttered. "I'm going to train my physique like One Piece characters."
He imagined monstrous durability. Strength that didn't vanish when energy ran out.
"I want defense so strong that even without chakra, I won't fall."
The system did not comment.
Days turned into weeks.
Ren's life settled into strict discipline.
He woke at dawn and trained his body until sweat drenched his clothes. He ate until his stomach was full. He rested strategically to maximize muscle recovery.
Then he trained again.
Ate again.
Slept.
Repeated.
Between sessions, he observed shinobi with his Rikugan, dissecting techniques without performing them. He studied chakra control exercises quietly inside his room, circulating energy gently through his coils.
Every movement was calculated.
Every meal intentional.
Every breath part of a larger plan.
Sometimes he would whisper to himself while staring at his reflection.
"You won't survive this world by luck."
Other times he would grin faintly.
"You'll dominate it through preparation."
The Teacher System remained watchful, waiting for the day he would approach Hinata Hyūga.
But Ren was patient.
A true teacher, he believed, must first surpass his student by an overwhelming margin.
Only then could he guide them without fear of losing everything.
And so, in a quiet two-story house within Konohagakure, a three-year-old boy built the foundation of a monster.