The clang of the Academy bell echoed across the courtyard, marking the end of another monotonous school day. Before the dust even settled, Mizuki bolted out of the room, ignoring Iruka's shout from behind him. He had no time for chatter or leisurely walks home. The real lessons waited elsewhere.
Through the winding paths of Konoha, Mizuki sprinted toward the dense forest that bordered the village's southern edge. It was the same secluded area he had found weeks ago—a perfect place for solitude, training, and silent growth. The canopy above filtered the sunlight into golden specks that danced on the ground. Birds scattered as he arrived, the familiar rustle of leaves greeting him like an old friend.
He dropped his bag beside a tree stump and exhaled deeply."This is it," he murmured, flexing his fingers. "No distractions. Just training."
He began immediately, going through the familiar sequence of hand seals he had practiced countless times."Tiger → Boar → Ox → Dog → Snake—Substitution Jutsu!"
A puff of smoke burst, and a wooden log replaced his body with a satisfying thud."Perfect!" he muttered with a grin. The motion felt smoother, the chakra flow sharper. It wasn't just luck—his control had genuinely improved.
Next, he took a stance again, closing his eyes and drawing in his breath."Ram → Snake → Tiger… Clone Jutsu!"
Poof!
A faintly shimmering copy of himself flickered into existence. It looked almost right, but its eyes were glassy, its body semi-transparent. The effort drained him quickly, sweat forming on his brow."Still too much chakra waste," Mizuki thought grimly, panting. "But better than last week."
After hours of repetitions, his limbs trembled from exhaustion. His stomach, empty since morning, growled angrily. Mizuki frowned. "Guess that rice ball at breakfast wasn't enough…"
Then, as if fate had mercy, a mouthwatering scent drifted on the wind—rich, savory, and warm. His senses sharpened instantly. Following the aroma, he pushed through a thicket of brush and found himself staring at a small campfire. An old man sat beside it, stirring a simmering pot of stew.
The man looked up and smiled warmly."Well now," he said, his voice calm and friendly. "Didn't expect a visitor out here."
Mizuki blinked. His mind churned as recognition struck. That face… that calm tone… Kosuke Maruboshi—the Eternal Genin! Only, he was much younger here, still in his prime.
"Hey, old man," Mizuki called out, trying not to sound too eager. "What're you doing out here?"
"Just cooking a bit of stew. Caught some fish, gathered some herbs. Makes for a good evening meal," Kosuke replied. "And you, boy? Why's a kid your age wandering around the forest alone?"
Before Mizuki could answer, his stomach betrayed him again with a loud growl. He grimaced. Kosuke chuckled softly."Hungry, are you? Come on, sit down. I can't eat all this by myself."
Mizuki hesitated for half a second—pride flaring—before giving in. "...Thanks, old man."
The stew was simple but divine. Each spoonful of broth felt like heaven to his empty stomach. They ate in silence for a while, until curiosity got the better of Mizuki."So… are you really a genin? You look way too experienced to still be one."
Kosuke smiled faintly, his eyes distant. "Yeah. Been a genin for many years. Some people climb the ranks. Others… choose a different path."
Mizuki frowned. "Different path? You mean giving up promotion?"
"Not giving up," Kosuke said quietly, gazing into the fire. "Protecting what matters, even from the shadows. Titles don't always define your strength."
Mizuki was silent for a moment. Those words hit deeper than he expected."Would you… train me?" he asked suddenly. "I want to get stronger—no, I need to."
Kosuke's eyebrows rose in surprise, then softened into amusement. "You sure about that? An old genin like me might not be the teacher you're hoping for."
"Doesn't matter," Mizuki replied firmly. "You've got experience, and that's what I need. Strength comes from survival, right?"
Kosuke laughed, a low, hearty sound. "Well said. Alright, kid. I'll train you—but don't expect mercy. Tomorrow, at dawn. Be here."
Mizuki grinned. "Deal. Thanks, old man."
The next morning, the forest echoed with the sound of Mizuki's grunts and Kosuke's barked commands.
"Again!""Push deeper! Feel the chakra flow, not force it!""Breathe! Don't fight your body—guide it!"
Kosuke's training was relentless. They started with brutal physical drills—running up steep slopes, push-ups until failure, and dodging thrown stones while balancing on a log. Afterward came weapon drills. Kosuke wielded a short sword, moving with effortless grace, while Mizuki tried to match his rhythm with a wooden practice blade.
Hours blurred into days, days into weeks. Every night Mizuki stumbled home bruised, bloodied, and drained—but always smiling faintly. He could feel himself evolving. His chakra control stabilized. His strikes grew faster. Even his reflexes sharpened.
During one particularly intense session, Kosuke introduced him to a new technique."Listen carefully," Kosuke said. "Earth Style: Underground Move Jutsu. C-rank. With proper chakra flow, you can move through soil like water. Perfect for ambushes or evasion."
Mizuki followed the instructions carefully, channeling his chakra downward. His legs tingled as the earth seemed to part around him. In moments, he sank below the ground, resurfacing behind Kosuke."Hah! It worked!"
Kosuke chuckled. "Not bad for a first try. You'll need to refine it, but that's progress."
Later, Kosuke taught him a kenjutsu form—Leaf Ninja Art: Yanagi, a fluid Yin-based style that emphasized deceptive movements and precise cuts. It was elegant but deadly. Mizuki practiced it until his arms felt like lead.
But one day, Kosuke's expression turned somber as he packed his gear."Duty calls, Mizuki. I've been recalled to active service."
Mizuki's throat tightened. "So that's it, huh?"
"For now," Kosuke said, smiling faintly. "You've got the drive, kid. Don't waste it. Train yourself, grow stronger. Make something of that fire inside you."
And just like that, Kosuke Maruboshi was gone.
Weeks passed. Mizuki continued training, this time without a mentor's guidance. The isolation hardened him, honed him. Every morning before sunrise, he woke to a self-imposed routine—endurance runs, toxin resistance practice (now increased in dosage), and chakra control drills until his vision blurred.
By the time he reached the Academy each morning, the lessons felt like child's play. The instructors' words became background noise to his inner monologue.
Chakra control? Sharper than ever.Ninjutsu? Faster.Kenjutsu and taijutsu? Deadlier.
When class ended, he slipped out unnoticed, heading straight to the cafeteria. With a burst of chakra, he flickered through the halls using the Body Flicker Technique—a move that once seemed impossible, now almost instinctive.
He grabbed his tray of rice and fish and found a corner seat. Before he could take a bite, two figures sat beside him.
"Mizuki!"He turned and blinked. "Obito? And… Rin, right?"
Rin smiled politely. "Nice to meet you. Obito's told me a bit about you."
"Oh?" Mizuki smirked. "Did he tell you I almost beat him in sparring last month?"
Obito groaned. "You barely survived that match!"
Their laughter filled the cafeteria. For the first time in months, Mizuki felt something resembling friendship. Not the shallow kind built on convenience, but the kind that made the air lighter.
"Hey," Mizuki said suddenly, leaning forward. "How about training after class? There's a spot I know. Quiet, perfect for sparring."
Obito hesitated, then grinned. "Yeah, let's do it."
The forest clearing had become Mizuki's domain. When they arrived, the ground still bore the marks of his earlier training—scars from kunai, cracked earth from chakra bursts.
"Alright," Mizuki said, tossing a shuriken into the air and catching it. "Let's start simple. Fireball Jutsu."
Obito nodded and formed hand seals quickly. "Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"A ball of flame erupted from his lips, smaller than Itachi's would be one day, but surprisingly well-formed. The fire crackled as it dissipated.
Mizuki clapped once. "Not bad. Control your breath more next time—don't rush it."
Obito frowned. "You sound like an instructor already."
Mizuki chuckled. "Maybe I should be."
For the next two hours, they alternated between ninjutsu and taijutsu drills, pushing each other harder than any Academy class ever did. By the end, both collapsed beneath the freezing waterfall, their clothes soaked, their bodies trembling.
Rin joined them sometimes, bringing food and medical supplies, fussing over their bruises. Mizuki found her gentleness oddly grounding—something pure amid the grind.
One week later
Training with Obito became routine. Every day they pushed their limits. Obito's improvement astonished Mizuki. His fire techniques grew stronger, his movements more precise. There was a hidden potential burning inside that Uchiha boy.
Mizuki, however, felt a growing frustration gnawing at him.He's catching up too fast. I need something new. Something that sets me apart.
That afternoon, he approached his Academy instructor after class."I want to join the advanced class," Mizuki said, his tone steady.
The instructor looked up from his papers. "You're confident in your skills?"
"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't," Mizuki replied.
"Then pass the written test—and show your practical ability. If you can do that, you'll have your promotion."
The written portion was grueling, packed with complex tactical questions about chakra theory, elemental advantages, and battlefield decision-making. But Mizuki's mind was sharper than ever. The endless nights of study and practical experience had prepared him well.
The practical test followed—a demonstration of the Substitution Jutsu, Clone Jutsu, and Body Flicker Technique. Mizuki executed each flawlessly, his chakra flow balanced, his timing perfect. The examiners exchanged impressed glances.
When it was over, the instructor gave a small nod. "Welcome to the Advanced Class, Mizuki."
A rush of satisfaction surged through him. He had done it—not through luck, but through sweat, blood, and unyielding effort.
As he left the room, the sunlight filtering through the window caught his grin.Step by step, he thought. I'm climbing higher. I may not have a clan name or a bloodline, but I'll carve my own path—one cut at a time.
The wind rustled through the trees outside, and somewhere in the distance, Mizuki thought he heard Kosuke's voice:"Good… You're growing strong, boy."
Mizuki clenched his fists, fire burning in his chest.He wasn't just another Academy student anymore. He was Mizuki—future shinobi of Konoha, and one day, someone the world would remember.