First lap, breathing a bit chaotic.
Second lap, footsteps began to coordinate with breathing.
Third lap, he could already feel the trajectory of Chakra flowing within his body.
He stopped, stood in the center of the training ground, and looked down at his hands.
Fast. Too fast.
Things that took three months of practice in the simulation, this body achieved in three days.
It wasn't just because of talent.
It was because those three months were already engraved in his brain—where to step, how deep to breathe, what force to use for each movement.
He didn't need to grope around; he just needed to let this body replicate those images.
Is this the Sage Body?
He clenched his fist, feeling the Chakra within his body that was far more abundant than before.
It wasn't just a matter of quantity, but quality.
Those Chakra were alive; the moment his mind stirred, they surged to where they needed to go, without the slightest delay.
He began to practice hand seals.
Rat—Ox—Tiger—Hare—Dragon—Snake—Horse—Ram—Monkey—Bird—Dog—Boar. Twelve basic seals, over and over again.
In the simulation, Shinji practiced for a whole month just to get his hand seal speed up to six seals per second.
Now.
He stopped and looked at his hands.
That last round, seven seals per second. And he wasn't even tired.
Footsteps came from afar; other Ninja were coming for morning training.
Those people saw him and paused for a moment; some whispered something, but he didn't hear clearly and didn't care.
He just raised his hand and started forming seals again.
This time it wasn't basic seals.
Snake—Ram—Monkey—Boar—Horse—Tiger.
Water Release: Water Wall.
Chakra surged from his body, condensing into a water wall in front of him, two meters high and three meters wide, shimmering in the sunlight.
The water wall lasted for three seconds before falling, leaving a large damp patch by his feet.
He stared at the damp patch, his brows slightly furrowed. The power was far worse than in the simulation.
But.
He formed the seals again.
This time faster. The amount of Chakra surging out was greater.
When the water wall rose, it was half a meter higher and a meter wider than before, lasting four seconds before falling.
Once more. A little higher again.
Again. A little steadier again.
The Ninja morning training in the distance had already stopped, standing at the edge of the training ground watching this side.
Some had their mouths wide open, some were rubbing their eyes, and some were whispering something.
Shinji didn't pay attention. He just stood there, forming seals over and over, releasing over and over.
Each time was better than the last. Chakra control was more precise, the movements of forming seals were smoother, and the power of the technique was more stable.
Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet. A water dragon rose from the ground, circled in the air, and then crashed down with a boom, creating a shallow pit in the ground.
Water Release: Water Shark Bullet. Over a dozen sharks made of water surged from all directions, gathered in front of him, and then dispersed.
Water Release: Great Waterfall Technique. A huge wave of water surged from behind him, pressing forward, covering the sky and earth, creating a mist of water at the other end of the training ground.
The sunlight shone on that mist, refracting a small rainbow.
Shinji stood under the rainbow, soaked through, gasping for breath.
Not from exhaustion, but because it was too fast.
Those techniques, those techniques he spent years mastering in the simulation, he had used them all in one morning.
And each time there was progress. This body was like a thoroughly dried sponge, crazily absorbing the things from those memories.
He looked down at his hands.
His hands were trembling slightly.
Not because of fear, but because—it was too strong.
That feeling was hard to describe. It was like crawling in the mud yesterday and suddenly being able to fly today.
Unaccustomed, yet unable to help wanting to fly higher.
"Um... Shinji?"
A voice came from behind.
Shinji turned back; a young man wearing a Genin vest stood there, holding a bucket, staring at him dumbfounded.
That person was the training ground attendant, usually responsible for cleaning and opening the gates.
"You, was that just now Water Release: Great Waterfall Technique?" The man's voice was out of tune, "That's something only a Chunin can—"
Shinji didn't speak. He just stood there, soaked through, the sunlight shining on him, highlighting the water droplets on his face.
The attendant looked at Shinji's face.
Still those ordinary features, an ordinary face, but for some reason, he felt something was different.
"I'm done training," Shinji said. "You can clean up."
He walked past the attendant, his pace neither fast nor slow, steady.
The attendant stood in place, watching the figure walk away, not moving for a long time.
The ground was full of water. A third of the training ground was flooded, the water shimmering in the sunlight, reflecting the clouds in the sky.
The attendant looked down at the water and the rainbow that hadn't completely dissipated yet, suddenly wondering if the sun had risen from the west today.
Shinji was walking on the road back to the dormitory.
The sunlight fell on him, drying his clothes, warming his back.
The techniques he had just practiced replayed in his mind over and over—the movements, the flow of Chakra, and areas for improvement.
Too fast, he thought. But not fast enough.
The Chunin Exams were in three weeks. That Sunagakure and Orochimaru's Konoha Crush plan.
But what concerned him most was not these people.
It was the person in that dream.
The way Mei Terumī looked standing on the high platform wearing a shiromuku, that glance she gave him when she turned back, her white knuckles when she knelt on the ground clutching her hem.
"Don't think about it anymore, it's just a dream."
Shinji wanted to throw those memories out of his head.
But that dream was too long. From nine to twenty-three years old, from the ruins of the Hidden Mist Village to the high platform of the Mizukage.
Those people: Kisame, Zabuza, Ao, Chōjūrō, every one of them was too real.
Those events: the bloody rain at Kannabi Bridge, the sword light of the Anbu, the confrontation at the Elder Council, every single thing was too clear.
So clear it was as if he had really lived through it once.
Shinji stopped, standing by the roadside. Sunlight leaked through the gaps in the leaves, falling on him, creating a mottled pattern.
He looked up at the sky above, which was an impossibly blue. The sky of Konoha was not like the sky of the Hidden Mist, which was always covered in a layer of gray.
He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
"Three weeks left," he said.
Then he continued walking forward. His pace neither fast nor slow, steady.
Those memories brought back from the simulation had already become a part of his body.
Those techniques, those experiences, those instincts honed on the edge of life and death, were now all his.
All he had to do was let this body catch up to those memories.
Three weeks. Enough.
Meanwhile.
When the official letter from the Fifth Mizukage, Mei Terumī, was delivered to the Hokage Building, the Third Hokage was watering flowers.
The sunlight was good. Several pots of flowers on the windowsill were shining in the sun, their leaves a vibrant, oily green.
He carried a watering can, slowly watering the flower pots, water droplets splashing on the leaves and rolling into the soil.
When the door was knocked, he didn't look up.
"Come in."
An Anbu knelt at the door, holding a scroll with both hands.
"Hokage-sama, an official letter from the Hidden Mist Village."