Adaptation

Konoha Year 42, summer

The autumn sunset gilded the training grounds of Konoha Ninja Village in warm gold.

It had been almost several months since he crossed over.

Uchiha Narong finished a day of classes at school, but he did not head straight back to the Uchiha Clan District like most of his peers in the clan.

He walked toward the already familiar Third Training Ground at the edge of the village.

The air was filled with the scent of earth and fallen leaves.

It was also filled with the smell of sweat left behind from his day-after-day training.

His life, in the seemingly peaceful autumn of Konoha Year 42, had entered a strict, self-disciplined loop of "three points and one line": the Ninja Academy, the clan training ground, and this secret base he used for "extra training."

The content of his extra training was a basic strengthening package he had tailored for himself. Water-walking trained his fine chakra control, until he could move over rushing streams as if walking on flat ground.

Tree-climbing trained the adhesion and control of chakra through the soles of his feet, with the goal of making it silent, better than sight itself.

Hand seal practice demanded speed so fast that his fingertips left afterimages.

After training, the progress was still very obvious.

What he wanted was to reach the transcendent state of the God of Shinobi, Hashirama Senju, where "hands clap, and ninjutsu comes naturally."

Taijutsu training focused more on explosive power and endurance. Every punch and kick he threw carried a sharp whistle as it cut through the air. He knew that all powerful ninjutsu and genjutsu were inseparable from this plainest foundation.

In this process, he was not completely alone. He got to know the civilian ninja Akutagawa Takeo and Inada Murakami. They were different from peers born into great clans, who carried an innate sense of superiority.

Akutagawa's tenacity and Inada's practicality gave Narong another perspective.

They let him see the vitality on Konoha's other side.

However, the most central connection happened with that hot-blooded youth who was always dressed in a green bodysuit, with thick brows and big eyes—Might Guy.

Their first meeting.

Narong was once doing extreme physical training alone when Guy, who happened to be running around the village on his hands, saw him. Guy had a natural fondness for anyone who worked hard at training taijutsu.

He immediately came forward with enthusiasm and invited him. "Hey! Uchiha kid! Want to burn your youth together? Let me be your opponent!"

According to Uchiha Narong's inner plan, he needed to maintain the slight coldness and reserve typical of the Uchiha Clan.

So the first few times, he merely nodded slightly and replied politely but distantly, "No need. I like training alone."

But every time they happened to meet, he would casually reveal a small result of his training.

Perhaps it was a steadier lower stance, or perhaps a faster burst of forward speed. Instead, this stirred Guy's interest even more, and his invitations grew more frequent.

Finally, after Guy had issued his invitation for who knew how many times.

Uchiha Narong showed just the right hint of a "defeated by your enthusiasm" helpless expression on his face.

He reluctantly answered, "...Fine, if that will stop you from chasing after me every day to ask."

Guy immediately raised his thumb happily, his teeth flashing with a signature gleam.

"That's the spirit! Let our youth burn together!"

Uchiha Narong nodded silently in his heart.

The first step in establishing the relationship was complete.

From then on, training taijutsu together with Might Guy after school became the norm.

Guy's training methods were pure and extreme, full of collisions of strength and dripping, exhilarating sweat.

Their sparring was often fist to flesh.

Leaf Whirlwind and Uchiha-Style Taijutsu intertwined, filled with the hot blood of youths.

It was also through these sparring sessions that Narong more deeply felt what kind of terrifying perseverance and potential were hidden beneath Guy's seemingly comical exterior.

Sure enough, just like in the anime, Narong himself was already hardworking enough, yet he had not expected that in terms of training intensity, he still could not compare to this hot-blooded maniac.

That ultimate taijutsu technique that would one day let Guy nearly kick out the ending with a single strike.

Did he need to learn it?

One day, a new face joined their sparring—Hyuga Toya of the Hyuga Clan. They had not interacted much during this period, but ever since that practical class, they had still sparred often.

Perhaps because of his branch family status, there was a lingering gloom between his brows.

But his Gentle Fist was sharp and precise.

"Uchiha Narong, let me experience the Uchiha's taijutsu."

Hyuga Toya took the opening stance of Gentle Fist.

Narong did not dare to be careless and focused as he responded, "Please guide me."

The fight was about to erupt.

Guy cheered loudly from the side, "Oh! Toya is here! Today is really lively! Narong, show him the power of our youth!"

Narong's offensive was swift and fierce, filled with the Uchiha's unique agility and explosiveness.

Meanwhile, Hyuga Toya's Gentle Fist was like a thin stream of water, specializing in attacking acupuncture points and using skill to overcome force.

Their figures rapidly crisscrossed the training ground, their fist winds and kicking shadows dazzling to the eye. This was a hot-blooded clash of hard and soft.

After one intense exchange, Narong narrowly avoided a finger thrusting toward an acupuncture point. He leaped back a few steps, panting lightly.

Hyuga Toya also withdrew his stance and stood still, saying faintly, "Not bad reflexes, Uchiha kid."

"You're strong too, Hyuga," Narong replied.

He could feel that Hyuga Toya's strength went far beyond this. Beneath that steady performance was a deeper strength.

All these intense confrontations and subtle observations constantly tempered Uchiha Narong's nerves.

They also made him even more careful to hide his greatest secret—his Sharingan, which had already quietly evolved to Two Tomoe. It might have been because his transmigration had given him abundant spiritual energy. Advancing from One-Tomoe Sharingan to Two Tomoe after one year was completely natural.

During training, he countless times forcefully suppressed the urge to use his Sharingan to copy and analyze his opponents' movements.

He knew very well that before he had enough ability to protect himself, exposing this talent too early in Konoha, this village that seemed peaceful but in truth seethed with undercurrents, would be no different from inviting disaster.

He secretly pondered, At ten years old, during the coming Third Shinobi World War, I'll "awaken my eyes" and obtain One-Tomoe Sharingan. This timing is reasonable and won't draw too much attention.

Sarutobi Hiruzen and Danzo's tolerance should only extend this far, right?

The calm after the last practical class seemed to confirm this point as well. As long as he had not activated the Sharingan, he was still temporarily a "safe," ordinary Uchiha youth.

When the sunset sank low beneath the horizon, Guy and Toya each left. Uchiha Narong's training, however, was not over.

He often stayed behind at the training ground to do his final hand seal practice. In the night, there was only the faint sound of wind stirred up by his flying hands.

The dynamic vision and neural reaction boost brought by the One-Tomoe Sharingan raised his control over the muscles in his hands to a new height.

His hand seal speed had indeed become somewhat faster.

But what he pursued was the extreme, the kind of nearly rule-like manifestation of power that Hashirama Senju had possessed.

The autumn night was slightly cool.

Uchiha Narong packed up his things and set off on the road back to the Uchiha Clan District.

The streetlights stretched his shadow very long.

He thought back over these past few months. There truly had not been any especially major incidents between the great ninja villages, only an eerie calm.

But this calm felt more like the suffocation before a storm. He knew that there were still several years until Konoha Year 47, until the Third Shinobi World War.

These few years were the most crucial time for him to accumulate strength.

After returning home, he would sometimes smell the scent of special medicinal baths drifting over from deep within the clan district, used to recover from training injuries.

That smell reminded him of the clan's support. It also reminded him of the invisible pressure on his shoulders. Lying in bed, he would repeatedly work through his plans.

How to deepen his friendship with Guy more naturally. How to continue improving his strength without exposing himself.

How, in that destined war to come, he could not only survive, but also obtain the power to truly stand on his own.

His three-point-one-line life silently added chips for the future every single day.