"Alright, let the Youth Special Training commence!"
Might Duy led the two five-year-olds to a rugged clearing on the outskirts of the Leaf Village. It was a classic training ground—weathered wooden stakes, jagged boulders, and a small, bubbling stream that cut through the tall grass.
Shinchan surveyed the landscape with a critical eye. "Hey, Big Brow Uncle, where's the slide? And the swings? This park has terrible reviews."
"A swing?" Duy paused, then erupted into a booming, hearty laugh. "Today's Youth doesn't need to swing through the air; it needs to challenge the very limits of the soul!"
Without warning, Duy flipped forward, landing on his hands in a perfect vertical line.
"First, the foundation of all foundations: the handstand. You hold it until your body screams for mercy! Guy, you're up!"
"Yes, Father!" Guy dropped to his hands instantly, his small body wobbling under the strain.
"Shinchan, join him!" Duy gave a gleaming thumbs-up.
Shinchan tilted his head, watching Guy's face turn an interesting shade of purple. "Why are we standing on our heads? Is this some kind of new religion?"
"To forge the muscles of the entire body and sharpen your sense of balance!"
"But," Shinchan said, his voice dripping with logic, "if we stay like that, won't all the blood run into our brains?"
Duy's pose faltered for a fraction of a second. "Well... a little bit might."
"Then won't our brains break? I need mine to remember where Mom hides the cookies."
"Nonsense! The hot blood of Youth only makes the mind clearer!"
Shinchan looked skeptical, but he sighed and mimicked Guy's posture, propping his hands on the dirt and kicking his feet into the air.
Thud.
His butt hit the grass.
Thud.
He went down again. Guy, already stabilized nearby, couldn't help but chuckle through the strain. "Shinchan, you have to engage your core! Feel the fire in your belly!"
"My core is currently telling me it's on strike," Shinchan muttered, lying flat on his back. "It says it prefers a horizontal lifestyle."
"Youth allows no room for laziness!" Duy reached down, grabbed Shinchan by the ankles, and hoisted him upright. "Hold!"
Shinchan was suddenly inverted. His round face began to glow like a ripe tomato. "Uncle... I feel it... the blood is definitely moving... it's having a party in my forehead..."
"Persist!"
"But... I see stars... and they're dancing..."
"That is the light of Youth guiding you!"
Shinchan went silent, mostly because he was too busy trying not to swallow his own tongue.
After what felt like an eternity, Guy was the first to give out. His arms turned to jelly, and he collapsed onto the grass, gasping for air. "Father... I've... I've reached the limit."
"Good!" Duy's eyes welled with tears. "Now, break through it! Let your Youth incinerate that limit!"
Guy gritted his teeth and pushed himself back up into a shaky plank. Shinchan, however, was still upside down. He was swaying back and forth like a reed in the wind, but he just... didn't fall.
Duy watched him, his brow furrowing in surprise. This kid has never done this before, and he's still going?
"Shinchan? You okay?"
"Uncle," Shinchan's voice was muffled and strange. "I think I see the First Hokage."
"What?!"
"He's waving at me... he's saying, 'Shinchan, come down and play, we have snacks'..."
Duy's eyes widened in panic. He quickly grabbed Shinchan and flipped him back onto his feet. Shinchan sat on the grass, his eyes vacant for two seconds before the light of mischief returned.
"Huh? The Hokage's gone. What a tease."
Guy crawled over, looking genuinely concerned. "Shinchan, are you alright? You looked like you were talking to a ghost."
"I'm fine," Shinchan blinked. "I just felt like I took a quick trip to heaven. It's very bright there."
Duy wiped sweat from his brow, sensing that this child's constitution was... irregular. "Alright! Next item: one hundred push-ups!"
"One hundred?" Shinchan's jaw dropped. "Uncle, I'm five. My joints are still made of rubber."
"Youth knows no age! I'll count for you!"
Guy dropped and began pounding them out. "One... two... three... four..."
Shinchan lay beside him and managed one. "One... whew... I'm retiring. It's been a good career."
Halfway through the second one, he just let his face hit the dirt and stayed there. "Uncle, I've reached my limit. It was a very short journey."
Duy walked over and looked down at the lump in the red shirt. "Really? Your limit? Already?"
Shinchan gave a muffled "Mhm" from the soil.
Duy was silent. This kid had just held a handstand longer than Guy, yet he was "exhausted" after two push-ups? "Shinchan, try one more."
"No."
"Youth—"
"Youth cannot defy physics, Uncle." Shinchan rolled over and stared at the darkening sky. "You're just like my mom. Always 'one more lap,' 'one more bite of broccoli.' You adults have no idea how heavy a five-year-old's limbs feel."
Might Duy was stunned. Guy stopped mid-push-up, staring at Shinchan in shock.
"Besides," Shinchan continued, "I don't even want to do push-ups. Why should I?"
"Don't you want to be a Ninja?" Guy asked, his voice full of disbelief. To him, this was the only path.
Shinchan thought about it. "Being a Ninja is cool and all, but my current career goal is being Asagi-sensei's boyfriend. I don't think she requires me to do a hundred push-ups."
Duy: "..."
Guy: "..."
"Listen, Shinchan," Duy said, kneeling down with a solemn expression. "The most important tool a Ninja has isn't a kunai or a jutsu. It's Will. That is the engine that drives you forward."
Shinchan blinked up at him.
"You promised to be here, so you came. That was Will," Duy said.
Shinchan reflected on the cake he'd left behind. That was mostly Mom's scary face, but okay.
"So if I quit now, I have no will?"
"Youth does not allow giving up!" Duy gave another blinding thumbs-up.
Shinchan sighed, slowly crawling back into a starting position. "Fine, fine. I'll burn a little more of this Youth stuff, even though I'm pretty sure it's just a fancy word for sweat."
For the rest of the evening, Might Duy led them through squats, leapfrogs, and tree climbing. Guy gave every ounce of himself, hitting his limit and shattering it over and over again with his father's roars of encouragement.
Shinchan, meanwhile, did every exercise with a strange, effortless quality. He complained the whole time, but Duy noticed something peculiar: Shinchan never actually looked tired. His breathing remained steady. His heart rate didn't skyrocket.
Does this child actually have a limit? Duy wondered, his brow deepening.
The sun finally dipped below the horizon.
"Alright! Training is over for today!" Duy announced.
Guy collapsed instantly, a puddle of green spandex and effort, gasping for air. Shinchan sat down beside him, his clothes a bit dusty, but looking relatively fresh.
"Father... I broke my limit six times today," Guy wheezed, a weak smile on his face.
"Magnificent, Guy!" Duy cheered. Then he turned to Shinchan. "And you, Shinchan? Did you find your limit?"
Shinchan tilted his head. "What exactly is a limit?"
"It's that moment when your brain says 'no more,' but your heart says 'keep going.'"
Shinchan thought about it. "I don't think I get it, Uncle. Every time I felt like I could do more, I just didn't want to. Moving is a lot of work."
Duy fell silent. He realized then that Shinchan's "limit" was buried much deeper than Guy's. The boy hadn't even scratched the surface of his potential because he simply didn't see the point in trying that hard.
"Shinchan," Duy said softly. "Will you be back tomorrow?"
Before Shinchan could answer, Guy scrambled to his knees. He looked at Shinchan with wide, watery eyes, his expression a mix of desperate hope and fear.
"Shinchan... you... you're still coming, right? You won't leave me alone with Dad's shouting?"
Shinchan opened his mouth to say, Absolutely not, my legs are done for the decade.
But then he saw Guy's face. It was the exact same look Shiro gave him whenever he forgot to fill the water bowl. It was pathetic. It was heart-wrenching. It was a low blow.
Shinchan's "no" got stuck in his throat. He swallowed it back down with a groan. "Ugh... honestly, you're worse than a stray puppy."
Guy's eyes shimmered. "Does that mean...?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll be here," Shinchan sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "But we're doing less tomorrow, or I'm filing a formal complaint with the Hokage."
"YES!" Guy jumped up, his legs shaking like leaves, but his face radiant. "We'll do a tiny bit less! I promise!"
Might Duy watched them, tears streaming down his face in twin rivers. "YOUTH! This is the Youth of a fated brotherhood!"
He swept both children into a crushing hug, sobbing and laughing at the same sky.
If you like it, please give power stones.