"You're back."
The front door of the Nohara home groaned open, and a weak, listless voice drifted in from the entryway. It sounded less like a five-year-old and more like a deflating balloon.
"It's 'I'm home,' actually," Misae called out, poking her head from the kitchen. When she saw Shinchan, she nearly dropped her spatula. "Good heavens, Shinchan! Did you lose a fight with a landslide?"
Usually, Shinchan would have executed a high-speed tactical maneuver straight toward the snack cupboard. Instead, he trudged into the dining room with the heavy, rhythmic gait of a zombie. He reached the table, let out a long, dramatic sigh, and collapsed forward with a dull thud.
"Mom."
"What is it? Are you okay?"
"I'm a broken man," Shinchan muffled into the wood of the table. "My soul has left my body. It's currently somewhere near the training grounds, looking for a place to nap."
Misae walked over and placed a hand on his forehead, checking for a fever. "Was the training really that intense?"
Shinchan turned his head sideways, resting his cheek on the table. He looked utterly gloom-stricken. "The Big-Brow Uncle is a madman. Handstands, push-ups, frog leaps, tree climbing... he just kept shouting about 'Youth' and 'Limits.' My limbs feel like they're made of wet noodles."
Misae couldn't help but let out a little snort of amusement. "Well, building up your stamina is a good thing, isn't it? You're going to be a ninja, after all."
"It's not good," Shinchan said with startling gravity. "Being a kid is way too much responsibility, Mom. I simply couldn't get out of it."
"Hmm? Why not?"
"Because you told me that if you promise someone something, you have to do it, or they'll be sad." Shinchan sighed, a sound of pure existential weariness. "But doing it is making me sad. My body is full of regret."
Misae froze. A sudden, unexpected warmth bloomed in her chest. She looked down at her son—dusty, disheveled, and complaining—and realized that despite his usual antics, he had actually listened. He had pushed himself through a grueling afternoon just to keep his word to a new friend.
"Shinchan, stay right there," Misae said, her voice softening.
She disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later carrying a small plate. It was stacked high with Chocobi.
Shinchan's eyes snapped open. "Chocolate bars!"
"I was already planning to celebrate your first day of school," Misae said, setting the plate down with a smile. "But consider this an extra reward for being a man of your word."
Shinchan stared at the mountain of chocolate, his mouth watering so much it was a safety hazard.
"And wait, there's more." Misae went back and forth, bringing out plate after plate: golden fried shrimp, sizzling hamburger steak, steaming miso soup, and a bowl of rice piled high. The table looked like a five-star buffet.
"Whoa!" Shinchan's eyes grew rounder than the plates. "Is it someone's birthday? Is the world ending? Am I being sent to a boarding school?"
"It's just to celebrate you," Misae said, sitting across from him. "Even though your dad is away on a mission, we should still mark the occasion properly."
Shinchan picked up his chopsticks, then paused, looking at the empty seat at the head of the table. "Mom, when is Dad coming back?"
"Probably in a few days," she said, reaching over to ruffle his messy hair. "Why? Do you miss him?"
Shinchan thought about it for a second. "Not exactly. I just want him to watch me do a push-up. I did a whole one today. It was very impressive."
Misae laughed. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see your 'performance' when he gets home."
"Good!" Shinchan stuffed a fried shrimp into his mouth. "Mmm... this is the taste of victory."
"Eat slowly! No one is going to steal it."
Shinchan ignored her, wolfing down the feast until his cheeks bulged like a hamster storing winter supplies. Outside, the moon rose over the Leaf Village, silent and peaceful.
Early the next morning.
Misae was a whirlwind in the kitchen, beating eggs with one eye on the wall clock.
6:50 AM.
She wiped her hands on her apron and headed toward the bedroom. After the workout Shinchan had endured yesterday, she expected him to be a literal statue of muscle aches this morning. She braced herself for the struggle of a lifetime.
She pushed the door open. There was a small, familiar lump under the quilt, wriggling with the speed of a tectonic plate.
"Shinchan?" she called tentatively.
"Mmm..." a muffled groan drifted from the bedding.
"Are you awake?"
"Mmm..."
Misae walked over and yanked the quilt back. Shinchan was curled into his usual shrimp-pajama pose, eyes squeezed shut, with a fresh trail of drool glistening on his chin. It was a carbon copy of the previous morning.
"Time to go, Shinchan. Rise and shine," she said, giving him a gentle nudge.
"Mmm... five more years..."
"Does your body hurt? Are you too sore to move?"
Shinchan opened one eye a tiny crack, looking at her with a dazed, foggy expression. "Hurt? Why would it hurt? Did you hit me while I was sleeping?"
"No! From the training yesterday! Your arms? Your legs?"
Shinchan blinked, seemingly processing the concept of 'muscle soreness' for the first time. He sat up slowly, let out a massive yawn, and then proceeded to rotate his arms and kick his legs. His movements were fluid—no wincing, no stiffness, no groaning.
Misae watched him, her jaw dropping slightly. "Well?"
Shinchan tilted his head, thought about it, and then fell back onto the pillow. "They feel fine. I'm just sleepy. My brain is still in a dream about a giant chocolate bar."
Misae grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. "No! Get up! We are not doing this again!"
"So violent... help... child services..."
"Cut the drama!"
"But I'm legitimately exhausted," he whined, dangling from her hand like a wet rag.
A vein throbbed on Misae's forehead. "I'm giving you to the count of three. One... two..."
Shinchan didn't even flinch. He actually closed his eyes and started to snore.
"Three!"
Misae hoisted him out and set him on the floor. Shinchan stood perfectly upright for two seconds before his entire body began to list to the left at a forty-five-degree angle. Misae caught him just before his head hit the floorboards.
"NOHARA SHINCHAN!"
"Present."
"Are you getting ready or do I have to use the cold water bucket?!"
Shinchan opened his eyes with a look of pure innocence. "I'm trying to get ready, Mom. Really. But my body has a mind of its own, and its mind wants to hibernate."
Misae took a long, shaky breath. The dialogue, the rising blood pressure, the morning chaos—it was all back.
Five minutes later, Shinchan had managed to get into his red shirt and yellow shorts, though the shirt was backward and the shorts were inside out. Misae sighed and redressed him.
Five minutes after that, he had brushed his teeth, leaving a massive dollop of minty foam on his chin like a Santa beard. Misae wiped it off.
Another five minutes passed, and he had "washed" his face, which mostly involved splashing enough water to turn the bathroom mirror into a waterfall. Misae didn't even bother cleaning it.
"Just... eat!" she said, pushing him toward the table.
Shinchan stared at the eggs and milk. "Mom, is there hidden green pepper in this toast? I can sense the evil."
"Who has green peppers for breakfast?! Just eat!"
Shinchan breathed a sigh of relief and dug in. Misae watched him, still unable to wrap her head around it. After that brutal training session with Might Duy, any normal five-year-old would be hobbling.
"Shinchan, seriously. No pain at all?"
He swallowed a mouthful of egg. "Mmm... nope. Just the sleepiness. It's a heavy burden."
"How is that possible? You did a hundred leaps! You climbed trees!"
Shinchan tilted his head, thinking deeply. "Maybe it's because I didn't use muscles to do it?"
"Then what exactly are you made of, kid?"
"Mostly chocolate bars and mystery," he said, giving her a cheeky grin.
Misae's mouth twitched. She had no comeback for that.
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