Intense training brought not only an increase in strength, but also a growing hunger.
Shira could clearly feel this rapidly developing body's craving for nourishment. After every time he pushed past his limits, his aching muscles and the cry from deep within reminded him that he needed more and better food.
Dinner at home usually consisted of simple flatbread, a few vegetables, and a little dried meat. That might have been enough for an ordinary family, but for a prospective ninja who trained to the point of near self-torture every day, it was nowhere near sufficient.
He looked at his parents, merchants who ran a small shop. Their faces were always tired, yet their smiles were full of concern for him.
They had never let him go without food or clothing, but Shira knew the family wasn't well-off. Resources were scarce in Sunagakure, and small merchants could barely make a living.
This can't go on. Late at night, Shira lay in bed, staring at the earthen ceiling. Training burns so much energy. If my nutrition can't keep up, I'll get half the results for twice the effort, and I might even wreck my body.
I have to find a way to eat better, or at least get enough protein and energy for myself.
Ask his parents for more money to buy food? He couldn't do it. They had already given everything they could.
That left only one choice: earn money himself.
What could a six-year-old do in Sunagakure, where the hierarchy was strict and resources were scarce?
When he finished training the next day, he didn't go straight home. Instead, he wandered through the village's relatively busy market district, observing.
He saw villagers using coins or bartering to obtain the things they needed.
He saw returning ninja outside the mission hall using their mission rewards to buy ninja tools and alcohol. He saw some small workshops taking on apprentices, but they required them to be at least ten years old.
He wasn't a qualified ninja, so he couldn't take missions. He was too young for anyone to hire him. And without a penny to his name, he had no capital to start a business.
Every path seemed blocked.
As the sun set, he headed home, somewhat dejected. When he passed through the area near Chiyo's residence, he slowed down unconsciously.
Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to a corner of the courtyard. Piled there were some discarded medicinal herb scraps that appeared to be substandard, along with some dried, twisted plant roots and stems. One kind of dark purple berry covered in sharp little thorns caught his attention.
Is that sea buckthorn? A mutated variety, too?
As a sports enthusiast in his previous life, he had dabbled in nutrition. Sea buckthorn was known for its extremely high vitamin content and hardiness.
And this dark purple sea buckthorn, in a world filled with Chakra, seemed to contain an aura of some unique energy. It was faint, but it was definitely there.
A bold idea formed in his mind.
He took a deep breath and knocked on Chiyo's door again.
Chiyo answered the door, her expression as impassive as ever. "You again, brat? If today's nonsense isn't fresh enough, get lost."
Shira bowed respectfully, then pointed at the pile of "garbage." "Lady Chiyo, if I may be so bold, do you still need those discarded medicinal herbs?"
Chiyo glanced at the corner and snorted. "Parts with insufficient medicinal potency or that are too difficult to process are naturally waste. What, are you so poor you've come to pick through my garbage, kid?"
Shira's heart leaped. He had guessed right. He steadied himself and said, "I wouldn't dare. It just seemed a shame to throw away that dark purple sea buckthorn, so I wanted to be bold enough to ask you for some."
"I'm willing to exchange my labor for it. Your courtyard doesn't seem to have been thoroughly tidied in some time. I'd be willing to sweep it and sort the odds and ends in exchange for these useless things."
He had offered the only trade a child could: labor.
Chiyo narrowed her eyes at him, seemingly weighing how absurd the proposal was. A tiny brat wanted to clean her courtyard just for some medicinal dregs?
But she didn't refuse immediately. She remembered the somewhat interesting questions the boy had asked a few days ago about physical training.
"Hmph. You do have a little cleverness." She stepped aside.
"There's a broom and a basket in the corner. Sort that messy pile into categories, sweep up the dead leaves, and shovel the sand and dirt level. Do a good job, and you can take that pile of junk. Do a bad job, or damage any of my things..." She didn't finish, but the threat was clear.
"Yes! Thank you for the opportunity, my lady!" Shira was overjoyed and immediately got to work.
He worked extremely hard and with great care. He carefully sorted the discarded medicinal herbs, putting the dried ones on one side and the roots and stems that might still be usable on the other.
As he swept, he carefully avoided all the medicinal herbs and puppet parts laid out to dry. He worked deftly, with a focus and care rare in a child his age.
Chiyo stood at the doorway and watched expressionlessly, an almost imperceptible flicker of surprise occasionally passing through her eyes. The boy's temperament and patience really weren't those of an ordinary child.
More than an hour later, the corner of the courtyard was spotless, and the discarded medicinal herbs had been sorted into separate piles.
Shira was drenched in sweat and covered in dust, but his eyes shone as he looked at Chiyo.
Chiyo waved him away as if swatting a fly. "All right, take your things and get going. You're an eyesore."
"Yes! Thank you again, Lady Chiyo!" Shira solemnly thanked her once more, then carefully wrapped the pile of dark purple sea buckthorn scraps in a piece of rag and left the courtyard, cradling it as though he had found a treasure.
Instead of going home, he ran behind a secluded sand dune outside the village.
He found two clean stones and carefully crushed the sea buckthorn berries, squeezing out their dark purple juice.
The juice gave off a sweet-and-sour scent with a hint of bitterness, and it did indeed contain a trace of faint, strange energy.
He took a small sip, and a faint warmth spread from his stomach. Though its effect was nowhere near that of proper medicinal herbs, it was unquestionably far better than ordinary food!
It worked... Shira looked at the small amount of purple juice in the stone bowl, filled with a sense of accomplishment.
It might not have been worth much money, but to him, it was an incomparably precious nutritional supplement! More importantly, he had found a viable path!
The next day, after finishing his training and schoolwork, Shira appeared outside Chiyo's door again.
This time, he not only brought several medicinal herbs he had picked, common desert plants with cooling and detoxifying effects, but also volunteered to help with more strenuous chores, such as moving drying racks for medicinal herbs and polishing basic puppet parts.
Chiyo looked at the boy who had appeared again and the few worthless herbs in his hands, which he had cleaned reasonably well. In the end, she said nothing, merely allowing him once again to exchange his labor for what she considered "scraps."
Gradually, it almost became an understanding between them.
Shira came every day, exchanging his labor for discarded medicinal herb scraps. Occasionally, when Chiyo was in a good mood, she would even casually give him a piece or two of miscellaneous advice about incompatible medicinal properties or how to exert a particular muscle group without getting injured.
Shira eagerly absorbed it all and made full use of the medicinal dregs. He mixed and crushed them into a simple ointment to ease his sore muscles after training, or extracted their meager essence and ate it mixed with his food.
His complexion visibly improved, and the intensity and duration of his training steadily increased.
One evening, his mother watched in surprise as he wolfed down twice as much food as usual, and couldn't help touching his forehead.
"Shira, your appetite seems much better lately. And you look a little sturdier."
Shira raised his head, swallowed the food in his mouth, and beamed.
"Yeah! It's because I'm working hard to get stronger! Don't worry, Mom, I'll take good care of myself."
He didn't mention the medicinal dregs. They were his own little secret and struggle.
Seeing his parents' reassured smiles, he knew this was only the beginning. He would exchange labor for resources and use knowledge to turn them into something valuable.
On this path of Taijutsu, he would have to rely not only on sweat to fight his way forward, but also on wisdom to guide him.