The sky bled amber and violet as Hideyoshi stood at the edge of the Shirokami compound, his breath misting in the chill morning air. His ears twitched—forward, then back—catching the crunch of footsteps behind him before the sound registered to normal hearing.
"You're early," Kaito said, appearing from the tree line like a ghost. The clan head's scarred face was unreadable in the half-light, his single eye sharp as a hawk's. "I said dawn. The sun hasn't cleared the horizon."
"Couldn't sleep," Hideyoshi admitted, tail wagging slightly despite his efforts to control it. Excitement buzzed beneath his skin like static electricity. "Too much... anticipation."
Kaito grunted, something that might have been amusement buried in the sound. He carried no weapons that Hideyoshi could see, wore only his standard worn tunic and trousers. But the man's very presence felt dangerous—coiled, patient, a blade sheathed but never forgotten.
"Your mother told me you've been running the forest since you could walk," Kaito said, circling Hideyoshi slowly. "Climbing trees. Listening to conversations you shouldn't hear. Acting like a shinobi before you knew what the word meant."
Hideyoshi said nothing. His ears tracked Kaito's movement precisely, the demi-human physiology R.O.B. had granted him already proving its worth. He could hear the man's heartbeat—slow, steady, a predator at rest. Could smell the iron and oil on his hands, the forest dirt on his boots.
"But knowing things isn't enough," Kaito continued, stopping directly in front of him. "Being smart isn't enough. The Uchiha boy who will one day rule his clan—he's smart too. The Senju heir as well. Intelligence is common among those who survive. What matters is application."
He held out his hand, palm up. "Give me your chakra."
Hideyoshi blinked. "I... don't know how. Not really."
"Exactly. You have it—every living thing has chakra. But you've never molded it, never shaped it, never even felt it flow properly. That's where we start."
Kaito knelt, bringing them to eye level. The movement was deliberate, Hideyoshi realized—not condescension, but calculation. Making himself approachable to a child while maintaining absolute authority.
"Close your eyes," Kaito commanded.
Hideyoshi obeyed. The world went dark, his other senses immediately compensating. He heard three different birds waking in the canopy above. Smelled the dew-heavy grass. Felt the morning breeze ruffle his silver hair and ears.
"Now, focus on your stomach. Just below the navel. That's where chakra originates—the stomach and intestines, converting food and water into energy."
Hideyoshi focused. He knew this from the anime, from the manga, from hundreds of hours of absorbed lore. But knowing about chakra and feeling it were different universes. He searched the darkness behind his eyelids for something... anything...
"Don't force it," Kaito's voice cut through his concentration. "You're trying too hard. Chakra responds to will, not desperation. Relax. Breathe."
Hideyoshi adjusted. In his past life, he'd done meditation apps, breathing exercises for anxiety, all the modern wellness nonsense. He applied that now—box breathing, four counts in, hold, out, hold. The rhythm settled his racing heart.
And there—faint, like heat lightning on a summer night—something flickered.
"I feel... warmth," he whispered. "Tingling. Like static in my stomach."
"Good." Kaito's voice held approval—rare as diamonds. "That's your chakra. Weak as a newborn kitten, but present. Now, try to move it. Up your spine, to your chest. Imagine it flowing like water, like breath."
Hideyoshi visualized. Chemistry knowledge helped here—he understood energy transfer, thermodynamics, the movement of particles from high concentration to low. He imagined the warmth in his gut as a fluid, obeying pressure gradients, seeking equilibrium.
The warmth... shifted. Crawled upward like a sleepy serpent, slow and uncertain. It reached his solar plexus and stalled, dissipating like smoke.
"Lost it," Hideyoshi reported, opening his eyes.
"Expected." Kaito stood, brushing dirt from his knees. "You held it for maybe three seconds. By the end of this week, you'll hold it for ten. By month's end, you'll move it to your hands consistently."
He walked toward the forest, gesturing for Hideyoshi to follow. "Chakra control is everything. Everything. A jōnin with perfect control can defeat a kage-level threat with raw power but sloppy technique. The Uchiha rely on their eyes—their chakra control is secondary, and it limits them. The Senju have power—they're sloppy because they can afford to be. You have neither luxury. You will be precise."
They reached a clearing beside a narrow stream. Kaito pointed to the water.
"Tree climbing is the standard test. Too advanced for you. Instead..." He stepped onto the stream's surface, walking across as casually as if it were a village street. "Water walking. The ultimate chakra control exercise. Requires constant, minute adjustments—too much chakra and you sink, too little and you sink. The water gives no mercy, no stability. It teaches you to feel your chakra in real-time, to adjust without thinking."
He returned to the bank, leaving no ripple. "Your goal: stand on the water for one second. Not walk—stand. One second without submerging."
Hideyoshi stared at the stream. It was maybe ten feet across, shallow, clear enough to see the rocky bottom. Deceptively simple. He knew from the anime that this technique took days, weeks for some students.
"Now?" he asked.
"Now."
Hideyoshi approached the water's edge. He closed his eyes, found the warmth in his stomach again—easier this time, like locating a muscle he'd never flexed. He coaxed it upward, along his spine, splitting it through his torso into both legs.
Too much pressure and you sink. Too little and you sink. Find the balance.
He stepped onto the water.
And immediately plunged in, the cold shocking his system, soaking him to the waist.
"Chakra output spiked at contact," Kaito observed, not helping him out. "You panicked, overcompensated. Again."
Hideyoshi dragged himself onto the bank, shivering. His ears drooped, tail tucked low. But his mind was already analyzing—what went wrong, how to adjust, the physics of surface tension versus chakra repulsion.
"Again," he said, stepping back to the edge.
"Good." Kaito's eye glinted. "Again."
---
They trained until the sun cleared the treetops, until Hideyoshi's legs shook and his chakra reserves—meager as they were—ran dry. He never achieved the full second. His best attempt lasted perhaps half a breath before the water claimed him.
But he learned the feel of it. The precise moment when chakra output matched water resistance, that perfect equilibrium point. He could hold it for an instant now, recognize it like a familiar face in a crowd.
"Enough," Kaito finally said, as Hideyoshi stumbled on the bank, drenched and exhausted. "You have chores. The clan works, even the children. Even the... special ones."
Hideyoshi nodded, too tired to bristle at the implied comment about his appearance. He helped prepare breakfast—gathering firewood, fetching water, his small hands working alongside the other children. No special treatment. No excuses.
But his mind never stopped working.
Chakra is energy. Energy can be shaped, condensed, transformed. The coat I want to create—it's just chakra maintained in a specific form, a persistent construct close to the body. Like... a standing wave. A resonance pattern.
He served stew to the clan elders, smiling at their thanks, while internally calculating. The physics of it made sense—if he could maintain a continuous output, shape it with his will, give it properties...
Not yet. Too weak. But the theory is sound.
That afternoon, while the hunters prepared for their expedition, Hideyoshi found a quiet corner of the compound. He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and practiced. Not the water walking—his body was too spent for that. Instead, he practiced shaping.
He gathered his chakra—less than before, a trickle where once there had been a stream. He pushed it to his hand, held it there, and tried to do something with it. Anything. Compress it. Spin it. Change its nature.
Nothing happened visibly. But Hideyoshi felt... resistance. Like pushing against a door that wasn't quite locked. The chakra wanted to obey, but he lacked the strength, the technique, the vocabulary to command it properly.
"Interesting."
Hideyoshi's eyes snapped open. Kaito stood in the shadow of the building, watching.
"You didn't exhaust yourself completely," the clan head observed. "You held back. Smart. Foolish students burn themselves out, take days to recover. You paced yourself."
"I want to try something," Hideyoshi said, emboldened by the praise. "A technique. Not one you taught me—something I'm exploring."
Kaito's eye narrowed. "Dangerous. Untested chakra techniques can damage your coils, burn your pathways. Permanent injury."
"I'll be careful. Small steps. I just... want to see if I can shape it differently. Not release it, just... hold it in a form."
Kaito studied him for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, he sat across from him. "Show me."
Hideyoshi blinked. "You're not going to stop me?"
"You're going to do it anyway. Sneaking off at night, practicing in secret. I've seen the signs—disturbed earth, scorch marks on trees, your exhaustion some mornings despite sleeping early." Kaito's scarred face twisted into something almost like a smile. "Better you do it where I can intervene if you start killing yourself."
Hideyoshi nodded, grateful. He closed his eyes again, found his chakra center. This time, instead of pushing it outward, he drew it upward—along his spine, over his shoulders, spreading it across his back like a blanket.
Visualize. White fur. Golden patterns. A coat of chakra, defensive, beautiful, alive.
The chakra responded... strangely. It didn't form the coat—he was far too weak for that—but it rippled. For just a moment, Hideyoshi felt something settle across his shoulders, weightless and warm, gone before he could examine it.
His eyes snapped open. "Did you see that?"
"See what?" Kaito asked.
"Nothing. I mean... I felt something. A response. My chakra moved differently when I gave it a specific... intention."
Kaito leaned forward, interest sharpening his features. "Intention? Not technique? Not hand seals?"
"Intention," Hideyoshi confirmed. "Will. Visualization. Like... the chakra knows what I want, but I don't have enough of it, or enough control, to make it real yet."
"That's..." Kaito trailed off, rare uncertainty crossing his face. "That's not standard theory. Chakra requires specific pathways, specific techniques. You can't just wish it into shape."
"Can't I?" Hideyoshi asked, genuinely curious. "The Sage of Six Paths created ninjutsu from nothing. The Uchiha manifest their eyes through emotional trauma—that's intention, isn't it? Strong enough will shapes reality. I'm just... exploring how far that principle goes."
Kaito was silent for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost reverent. "You're either a genius who will revolutionize our world, or a fool who will kill himself before puberty. Either way, I've never seen anything like you, runt."
He stood, brushing off his trousers. "Continue your... experiments. But only after official training. Only when I'm nearby. And if you feel pain in your coils—any pain—you stop immediately. Understood?"
"Understood, Uncle."
Kaito walked away, shaking his head. Hideyoshi watched him go, then returned to his meditation.
The coat is possible. I felt it. Now I just need to grow stronger, refine the technique, build my reserves. Step by step. Slow and steady.
He smiled, his tail thumping against the ground. The sun was warm on his face. Somewhere in the forest, a wolf howled—a real one, wild and free.
Hideyoshi howled back, just for the joy of it.
His training had begun.
---