Elder Fukasaku watched quietly as Fujimoto Tōma followed the training plan he had been given.
When Jiraiya first came to Mount Myōboku, he hadn't lasted long. His movements were sloppy, his posture needed constant correction, and Fukasaku had spent more time striking him with a ruler than teaching.
Tōma, on the other hand, was seeing the plan for the very first time.
And yet every movement was precise.
There was nothing to correct. His stance, balance, and transitions were already close to ideal. No wasted motion, no bad habits. Fukasaku searched for flaws out of instinct and came up empty.
He stroked his beard, clearly pleased. Tōma's taijutsu wasn't powerful yet, but his fundamentals were extremely solid. This kind of clean base didn't come from talent alone.
That credit belonged to Might Guy. Only someone who had drilled taijutsu down to muscle memory could break movements apart and rebuild them this cleanly.
Fukasaku glanced at the black ruler in his hand. At this rate, he might not even get much use out of it. When Jiraiya trained here, he'd nearly worn the thing down.
What surprised him even more was Tōma's stamina. So much time had passed, yet the boy still hadn't ended his first training cycle.
"Jiraiya really did take in someone incredible," Fukasaku muttered.
Eventually, Tōma reached his first limit.
"That's enough. Eat this, then continue," Fukasaku said, producing a pill and handing it over.
Tōma accepted it but didn't swallow it right away. Instead, he sat cross-legged. Lightning began to flicker faintly across his body.
Fukasaku's eyes widened slightly.
"So that's it… No wonder."
Now it made sense. Tōma's rapid physical growth wasn't natural alone. This method explained everything.
That realization also meant one thing.
The training plan needed to be adjusted.
Upward.
Once Tōma finished his lightning-based recovery, he swallowed the pill. He had no interest in knowing what it was made from. As long as it worked and didn't look like insects, that was enough.
Warmth spread through his body. The fatigue didn't vanish, but it softened, settling deeper instead of pressing at the surface.
He clenched his fist.
Tired, yes. But still able to move.
"So this is Mount Myōboku's secret medicine…" Tōma murmured.
"Don't waste it," Fukasaku said calmly. "Its effect only shows if your training keeps up."
In truth, this was usually the hardest part. The body couldn't fully absorb the benefits right away, and pushing during this window was brutal.
But Fukasaku had underestimated Tōma.
Before, Tōma had deliberately stopped at his limit. Now he understood something important.
With this medicine, the backlash from pushing past his limit once per day was nearly gone.
Maybe even twice.
The result was absurd.
Fukasaku watched in silence as Tōma continued, eyes wide, throat dry. At some point, he began to doubt himself.
Was he out of touch with the times?
Or was his training plan simply too gentle?
Worse, were the secret medicines not enough anymore?
Jiraiya had taken smaller doses back then and still failed to fully use them. Tōma, on the other hand, was squeezing every bit of value out of it.
Once his body entered its next growth phase, his chakra reserves would begin increasing at a terrifying rate.
There was no doubt anymore.
Tōma's future chakra capacity would surpass Jiraiya's.
"With chakra like that…" Fukasaku muttered, stroking his beard, "not learning senjutsu would be a waste."
A decision quietly took shape in his mind.
After breaking through his second limit, Tōma finally stopped. His body felt hollowed out. A third push was impossible today.
Still, he was satisfied.
He glanced at the sky and sighed. Training with the medicine consumed an absurd amount of time, but that was the price of progress.
Strength demanded endurance. Monotony. Pain.
What surprised him most was himself.
In his previous life, he'd heard about breaking physical limits but never managed it. He'd assumed his willpower was weak and that his current success came from some vague advantage.
Now he wasn't so sure.
Maybe his resolve wasn't as lacking as he'd believed.
If this continued, he might even match Rock Lee's physical growth. Maybe surpass it.
And the difference wasn't effort.
It was backing.
Even with Lee's relentless training, he didn't have access to resources like this. Jiraiya's depth ran far deeper than a single taijutsu master's could.
Mount Myōboku's medicine alone guaranteed that, during its effective period, Tōma's physical growth would outpace even someone training harder than him.
Unfair?
Maybe.
But Tōma didn't dwell on it. Every advantage he had was something he'd earned, step by step.
He sat cross-legged again. Lightning flickered softly as his body relaxed. His mind emptied, slipping naturally into a calm, focused state.
This time, he forgot something important.
Elder Fukasaku was still watching.
The old toad's expression changed.
He stared. Observed. Thought carefully.
Then his eyes widened.
"…This is the precursor state," he muttered. "The doorway to senjutsu."
Once again, Elder Fukasaku was utterly shaken.