Chapter 4

Outside the school gates, Saitama said goodbye to Iruka's mother, who was waiting nearby. After watching Shisui leave with Auntie Orange, he decided to buy some ingredients before heading home.

For the past several days, Granny Kaori had been finding new ways to cook meat, making Saitama miss lighter flavors. He bought several pounds of fresh seasonal vegetables from the greengrocer and set off home with brisk steps.

Classes did not begin until two in the afternoon, leaving plenty of time before dismissal. Saitama thought about the future—next month would be Kannazuki. Shisui would turn six, and his own birthday was approaching as well.

In his memories of his past life, Shisui had completed his studies in just one year. And the clouds of war were quietly gathering!

The undercurrents of the ninja world, silent for years, were stirring once more. The ashes of the Second Shinobi World War had already gone cold.

Looking up at the sky, Saitama knew time waited for no one.

Inside the Hokage's office.

"Lord Hokage, the roster of this year's new students is here."

The Third Hokage took the scroll, puffing out a ring of smoke.

"There are six hundred and twenty-four new students this year, a record high in recent years."

The balding middle-aged dean stood respectfully with his hands at his sides.

"Very good."

Though the Third Hokage, now past fifty, showed signs of fatigue, the sight of young seedlings entering the academy still brought him comfort—these children were all Konoha's hope for tomorrow.

On the first page of the roster, the words "Uchiha Saitama" leaped into view.

"Uchiha, huh..."

The names at the front of the list were all talented students selected by the teaching staff.

The dean remained silent. Matters involving the Uchiha were not something a mere educator like him could comment on.

"You may leave."

The oily-faced middle-aged man bowed, closed the door behind him, and left.

Behind the curling smoke, the Third Hokage's expression gradually became unreadable.

"Little Saitama, you're back!"

Uchiha Kaori was still lounging leisurely in her rocking chair.

"I'm back for dinner, Granny."

Saitama shook the bag in his hand, revealing the vegetables he had just bought.

Granny Kaori usually had nothing to do. Though there were many elders her age in the clan, she had no contact with them. Content with her current life, she had no desire to take the initiative and make new friends.

So her greatest daily pleasure was experimenting with new dishes Saitama happened to mention.

That was fine too. Things outside were a complete mess.

After handing the vegetables to his grandmother, Saitama turned and went upstairs.

He only needed to be responsible for eating! It was better to give an elderly person something to do than let her sit idle, and cooking suited Granny Kaori perfectly.

Back in his room, Saitama began refining chakra as usual.

At noon, Saitama had a simple meal of vegetable salad and chicken before heading to school.

The afternoon was for formal ninja training—kunai and shuriken lessons!

To their class, a course like this was practically child's play.

Anyone admitted into this class had at least some foundation.

The instructor knew that well. After a brief explanation, he let everyone practice on their own to improve their proficiency.

The training ground was spacious enough for everyone to move freely.

Holding wooden kunai and shuriken, Saitama had some doubts—

Could these things really hurt people? In his past life, he had never seen anyone die from one.

Still, he would not slack off because of that.

After all, Uchiha Shisui and Itachi's shuriken techniques were genuinely formidable. Once practiced to that level, they would definitely be useful in actual combat.

With that thought, he hooked the kunai's ring around his right index finger and spun it several times while his left hand rubbed the shuriken.

First-year classes really were simple. After listening to the afternoon lesson, Saitama felt there was nothing difficult about it.

Sure enough, a teacher could only teach the basics. If he wanted to grow stronger, he would have to rely on his own efforts.

After the dismissal bell rang, Saitama and Shisui went their separate ways—Shisui was heading to the clan training grounds, while Saitama planned to visit a ninja tool shop. The weapons he had used while practicing swordsmanship at Shisui's house had all belonged to Shisui's family. Now that they had taken a practical ninja tool class, it was the perfect time to buy his own equipment.

Following his memories, he found the ninja tool shop. It was small, and there were few customers at this hour. The owner leaned against the doorframe, leisurely trimming his nails with a kunai, his movements practiced and deft.

"Hello, boss!"

Saitama stopped in front of the shop. Iruka had recommended this place, saying that his father often shopped here.

"Oh, a little customer." The owner looked over the customer who was not even a meter tall. "What do you want to buy?"

"A pack of kunai, a pack of shuriken, and a short sword."

"From the ninja academy?" The owner studied Saitama's young face.

"Yes. We just started ninja tool classes, so I'm buying them for practice."

There were no restrictions on buying ninja tools in Konoha Village, and Saitama quickly finished purchasing his equipment. The kunai, shuriken, and short sword cost him a full thousand ryo—enough for five meals of grilled meat. The expense made his heart ache for quite a while.

It was already five-thirty when he finished shopping. When he got home, Uchiha Kaori had just finished making dinner and was waiting for Saitama to return before preparing the final soup. Although she trusted her grandson, the old woman still asked about school as usual: "Are you adjusting?" "Are you getting along with your classmates?" and so on. Saitama answered patiently, since this was one of his grandmother's few pastimes.

After dinner, Saitama began practicing in the yard. His chakra reserves were steadily growing, though he had nothing to compare them against; his hand seals were becoming increasingly proficient, and he had memorized the seals for the Three Body Technique by heart; he had more or less grasped the essentials of swordsmanship, so all that remained was repeated honing and actual combat experience.

There was still so much to learn. He could not afford the slightest slackness!

It was now Konoha Year 44, and he would turn six before long.

According to the original story, Shisui would graduate early in his second year. Afterward, his strength would grow rapidly, and on the battlefield between Konoha and the Hidden Mist, he would earn the famed title of "Shisui of the Body Flicker."

The Hidden Mist battlefield was also where Shisui awakened his Sharingan, though that was a story for later.

I can't fall behind!

Saitama clenched his fists, filled with fighting spirit.

He took out the short sword he had bought that afternoon, unwrapped the cloth around it, and gently ran his fingertips along the blade.

This was the first sword on Saitama's path as a ninja. It was not a famous weapon, but it was the one that felt best in his hand after careful selection.

The blade was around forty centimeters long, roughly half his current height.

For the current Saitama, it was still a little too long.

Once his body developed more, this size might fit his hand perfectly.

But by then, a sword of this quality would likely no longer meet his needs.

Dusk deepened, and it was nearly seven.

In the yard, Saitama repeated the same sword-swinging motions over and over, sweat soaking through his clothes. Only when it became muscle memory could a foundation be considered solid.

Thanks to his exceptional talent, he could feel his swordsmanship improving with every practice session.

Saitama now felt that his swordsmanship was no worse than Shisui's, despite Shisui having trained with a sword for over a year. It might even be better.

Yet he never showed off such things. Revealing his edge too early would not benefit his current situation.

After all, despite bearing the Uchiha name, he had no clan support. That surname could intimidate ordinary civilians at most.

Moonlight draped over his shoulders, making him seem as free as the wind!

During several straight hours of training, Saitama stopped only once to drink water.

Yet his body showed no sign of fatigue. Such astonishing recovery was comparable to that of the future "young prince."

No matter how grueling the training or how serious the injury, one night's sleep would restore him completely!

Tonight, he focused only on slashes.

After countless repetitions, this draw slash became more and more refined—Saitama had taken inspiration from films and television when naming the move.

If one slash could not settle an opponent, that only meant the opponent was worthy of his full strength.

Swordsmanship was only one part of his plan. Ninjutsu was the foundation, and the Sharingan was his future direction.

At this stage, practicing swordsmanship was merely to make up for his lack of offensive power.

Skill was about mastery, not quantity!

After sheathing his sword, Saitama took out his kunai and shuriken to continue practicing.

Using kunai and shuriken required constant practice until they became as nimble as one's own fingers.

Saitama had complete confidence in his talent.

That afternoon was his first time handling these ninja tools, yet with the teacher's brief explanation and the experience from his past life, he quickly grasped the basics.

As long as he kept practicing, mastery of shuriken and kunai would belong to him sooner or later!

Holding a kunai, Saitama felt as though he were gripping a short sword.

His hands were still too small, and real metal kunai were harder to control than the wooden training kunai from school.

He slipped the ring at the end of the kunai over his index finger and lightly spun it several times, feeling its weight and force.

The shuriken were the same.

It was a ninja's instinct, and it was also where Saitama's talent lay.

He did not rush to throw them. Instead, he repeatedly handled them, gradually increasing his familiarity with the ninja tools.

Half an hour later, Saitama put away the tools, placed them in a ninja tool pouch, and tied it to the outside of his left leg.

He had seen many ninjas carry their tools that way. It was convenient in battle and looked good too, so he followed suit.

It was late at night now, past ten, yet Granny Kaori's room was still lit.

The old woman did not sleep well and always went to bed late and woke early.

Saitama wished her good night and reminded her to rest early before heading upstairs.

Today's training was not over yet. After returning to his room, he still had to practice chakra refinement and hand seals.

The seals for the Clone Technique were simple: "Ram-Snake-Tiger." As a basic ninjutsu, it was not difficult.

As long as he completed the seals within five seconds and coordinated the flow of chakra, he could successfully activate it!

After returning to his bedroom and refining chakra for a while, Saitama decided to try using ninjutsu.

Following the method in his memories, he found that this basic ninjutsu was indeed easy to learn.

"Poof!"

As a puff of white smoke dispersed, another "Saitama" appeared in the bedroom.

Looking at his clone felt incredibly strange.

Saitama smiled slightly, and the clone returned the exact same smile.

This basic Clone Technique was only an illusion with no physical form, so its uses were limited. Only the Shadow Clone Jutsu could create a physical body capable of carrying out actual tasks.

Still, succeeding on his first attempt left Saitama satisfied.

As for the Shadow Clone Jutsu, his parents had not left behind a related scroll.

However, the Uchiha clan had deep foundations. There should be an opportunity to learn it someday.

After washing up, Saitama drifted into dreams with anticipation for tomorrow. Thinking about having to hurry to school in the morning, he did not dare sleep in.

Morning sunlight filtered through the forest as the sound of metal clashing rang out in succession.

"Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The boy's agile figure leaped into the air, and four shuriken flew from his hands one after another. The hidden weapons collided in midair, changing direction before precisely striking four concealed targets.

Saitama had imitated this move from his memories of Uchiha Itachi, though he had greatly reduced the difficulty. After all, that genius had completed the entire sequence with his eyes closed.

In the two months since school began, Saitama had maintained a fixed training rhythm: during the day, he refined chakra and practiced hand seals at school; after returning home in the evening, he focused on swordsmanship and ninja tool throwing.

This patch of woods near the Uchiha training grounds had become his secret training ground. Although he could not use the official training grounds, this suited him better—it kept him out of others' sight and spared him from exposing his true strength.

Recently, his chakra training had hit a bottleneck. No matter how hard he tried, its growth had become exceptionally slow, as though some force were devouring the newly refined energy. This could not help making Saitama wonder whether some secret was hidden within his body.

After quickly cleaning up the traces of his training, he was about to head home for lunch. Today was a rest day, and he had trained enough that morning.

"Crack—"

The sound of a snapping branch caught his attention. Looking up, he saw Shisui standing beneath a tree not far away.

"Granny Kaori said you went out, so I guessed you'd be here." Shisui wore his familiar smile.

Though they had only known each other for a few months, the two were like old friends of many years. Still, after recently receiving special training from his clan, Shisui had become much steadier than when they first met. He was no longer as lively and restless as before.

"I had nothing else to do, so I came to practice." Saitama answered casually.

Saitama adjusted the ninja tool pouch at his leg, making it sit more comfortably against his body.

"I might have to take some time off soon. My father is taking me out for special training."

Shisui spoke softly, his gaze falling beside Saitama's feet.

Saitama keenly noticed his hesitation.

"Want to spar?"

Shisui reached behind his back and drew his **.

He knew Saitama's strength was no weaker than his own—this guy who deliberately hid his abilities at school had displayed astonishing talent the moment he began practicing swordsmanship.

The corners of Saitama's lips lifted as his fighting spirit ignited.

He also wanted to test the results of his solitary training.

His right hand reached behind him and gripped the sword hilt, cold metal seeping into his palm.

"Come!"

The two six-year-old boys faced one another, their childish faces filled with killing intent.