After being discharged from the hospital, life returned to its usual quiet rhythm.
Kitahara Kaede didn't let himself stay idle.
The "max-level talent" provided more than just an accelerated learning speed; it brought a fact he had confird the very first ti he extracted chakra.
His chakra possessed all seven nature transformations.
Fire, Water, Wind, Lightning, Earth, Yin, and Yang.
All seven. Complete.
In the world of shinobi, an average ninja was considered exceptionally gifted if they could master two or three nature transformations in their entire lifeti. As for all seven—according to his mories, fewer than ten people in the Hidden Leaf possessed such a talent.
Naturally, Kitahara Kaede began pestering his "father" to teach him more ninjutsu.
Clan Head Hagoromo eventually gave in, teaching him a C-rank Water Style jutsu—Water Colliding Wave—and a B-rank technique—the Shadow Clone Technique.
Kitahara Kaede watched the demonstration for each jutsu once. Then, he perford them himself.
He mastered the Water Colliding Wave instantly. While his first attempt at the Shadow Clone Technique was a bit clumsy, he still executed it successfully.
The clones produced by the Shadow Clone Technique had physical substance; they could be touched, they could fight, they could act as decoys to take a hit, and they could even think independently. They weren't like the E-rank clones from the Academy that vanished the mont they were touched.
Clan Head Hagoromo remained silent for a long while.
After the incident with the Great Fireball Technique, he had ntally prepared himself for his son's talent. However, mastering a B-rank jutsu after a single demonstration was a level of comprehension typically reserved for Jonin.
Kitahara Kaede was privately delighted. He wasn't happy because of the talent itself, but because of the tangible gains. In his previous life, he hadn't even had a way to learn ninjutsu. A C-rank technique would have been an unreachable luxury, and a B-rank technique was unthinkable.
Now, he could learn them for free in the simulator; it would be a waste not to take full advantage of it.
But those were the gains on the surface. There was sothing Kitahara Kaede was pondering in private that he told no one.
He was developing a technique.
More accurately, he was attempting to replicate an A-rank jutsu he knew of but had never seen with his own eyes: Lightning Style: Chidori.
He understood the principle. High-concentration lightning-natured chakra was concentrated in the palm, creating a cutting effect through high-frequency oscillation. Essentially, it was a short blade ford from chakra with imnse piercing power, designed to destroy internal organs and chakra pathways directly.
There were two core difficulties:
First, the precision of the nature transformation. Unlike Fire Style, where one simply "released" the attack, Lightning Style required the user to maintain a constant high-frequency oscillation in the palm. If the chakra spiraled out of control, it would backlash against the user.
Second, compressing the transford chakra into the palm without it dissipating.
Theoretically, since he possessed all seven attributes, there was no inherent barrier for him regarding the nature transformation of Lightning Style. However, "having no barrier" and "actually doing it" were two different things.
Every day, after finishing his regular training in the back mountains, Kitahara Kaede would find a secluded corner to practice this alone.
He would extend his right hand, fingers slightly curved, and let chakra surge along his pathways toward his palm, triggering the nature transformation—
During the first few attempts, the chakra exploded the mont it transford. It wasn't a real explosion, but rather the chakra dissipating due to unstable nature transformation. His palm would go numb and his fingertips would twitch as if he'd been shocked.
By the tenth attempt, a brief arc of electricity appeared in his palm. The blue-white light lasted less than half a second before shattering.
But that half-second of light confird one thing: he was heading in the right direction. All he needed was ti.
He didn't tell anyone about this—not even Tsunade.
The only side effect was that the palm of his right hand often had red marks from the shocks, and it would occasionally twitch involuntarily. He brushed this off as "old injuries that hadn't fully healed."
Tsunade had asked him once.
"Why is your hand shaking again?"
"Old injuries."
Tsunade stared at his palm for a few seconds. The red marks weren't in the sa place as the scars from the kunai wounds. She didn't press further.
***
Days at the Academy continued as usual.
Kitahara Kaede would send a clone to class while his original self went to the back mountains. Tsunade would spend her classes reading introductory dical manuals, occasionally helping him cover his tracks. Jiraiya simply slept through class.
The only thing that changed was where the three of them went after school.
Tsunade went to the dical classroom. Every day, without fail, she practiced in there alone.
Sotis, Kitahara Kaede would stop as he passed by. He wouldn't go in, but he would stand outside and peek through the half-open window.
Her hand would hover above a simulated wound, fingers slightly curved, as green chakra emanated from her palm in a thin layer, covering the injury.
At first, it was unstable. The chakra output would fluctuate like a candle fla in the wind, flickering. When treating an incision, the edges of the new tissue would occasionally heal unevenly—it didn't affect the function, but it wasn't perfect.
Tsunade did not accept imperfection.
She would reset the simulated wound and start over. Once, twice, seven tis, eleven tis. She continued until that layer of green light was as steady as if it were bonded to the skin, without a single tremor.
Kitahara Kaede would watch for a while, then leave.
One day after class, Tsunade walked up to Kitahara Kaede's desk and slapped a report card down.
Basic Theory of dical Ninjutsu: Full Marks.
"Like I said," she said, her chin tilted up slightly, "I'm fast at learning everything."
Kitahara Kaede glanced at the score and then at her expression. He rembered the little girl in the hospital room clutching her skirt, saying, 'Next ti you're hurt, I'll be able to handle it myself.'
It had been less than a year.
"You are fast," Kitahara Kaede said, pushing the report card back to her. "But the last ti you practiced incision repair, your chakra output fluctuated three tis."
Tsunade's eyebrows shot up. "How do you know that?"
"I was standing behind you watching."
"...You're bored, aren't you?"
"I was just passing by."
Tsunade snatched the report card back, folded it, and stuffed it into her pocket before turning to leave. She muttered sothing under her breath that Kitahara Kaede didn't quite catch—likely sothing about him being a ddler.
The next day, as he passed the dical classroom, Tsunade was inside alone. The chakra covering the simulated incision was as steady as a pool of still water. There wasn't a single fluctuation.
Jiraiya also seed to be getting serious. Since the day of the exercise in the back mountains, the guy had stuck to Kitahara Kaede like glue. Every day after school, he followed him to run laps around the field and practice taijutsu.
In the beginning, he would collapse and pant after fifteen laps. Later, he could do twenty, and eventually thirty. When he couldn't run anymore, he would sprawl on the grass, face pressed against the dirt, mumbling, "I truly just hasn't finished warming up yet."
Kitahara Kaede never waited for him; he simply did his own training. If Jiraiya could catch up, he caught up; if not, he'd try again the next day.
Orochimaru remained the sa—silent in class, silent after class. He always sat in the corner by the window, reading books that had nothing to do with the curriculum. Occasionally, his eyes would et Kitahara Kaede's in the hallway, and he would give a slight nod.
That was all.
***
Another sester ca to an end.
When the grades were posted, Kitahara Kaede was first and Tsunade was second. There were no surprises.
Tsunade stood before the announcent board, staring at the results for three seconds. Then, she reached out and punched Kitahara Kaede in the shoulder. Unlike a normal person's strength, it hurt even through his clothes.
"I'll beat you next ti."
"Sure."
"You always say 'sure.' You have no sincerity at all."
"Then what do you want to say?"
Tsunade huffed and turned to walk away. After two steps, she looked back.
"In the final practical ninjutsu exam, I was only two points behind you."
"Mm."
"Only two points!"
"I heard you."
Tsunade glared at him and this ti, she really left.
Jiraiya squatted beneath the announcent board, clutching his white hair and muttering, "I truly just didn't perform my best."
No one responded to him.
[Tiline accelerating—]
[During your final two years at the Ninja Academy, your training shifted toward practical combat and precise chakra control. Weighted cross-country runs and free-solo rock climbing beca your daily routine. Sparring with Shadow Clones filled the gap left by the lack of high-level training partners.]
[Your chakra reserves and ninjutsu proficiency have now reached the level of a Chunin.]
[The Lightning Style technique you developed in secret has made a breakthrough. The electric arcs in your palm have extended from three seconds to ten, and the form has evolved from scattered sparks into a condensed, albeit unstable, orb of light. While the complete form is still so distance away, the prototype has erged.]
[However, the bubble of peace was destined to burst. With the passing of the "God of Shinobi," Hashirama Senju, the agreents between the Five Great Nations gradually collapsed.]
[The Cloud Village struck first. Fighting soon erupted between the Stone and Mist villages. The First Shinobi World War broke out in full.]
[Your father, Clan Leader Hagoromo, headed to the front lines following the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju.]
[The war reached a bloody stalemate. The Cloud Village split internally between a pro-war faction and a peace faction. Eventually, the Second Raikage decided to sign a ceasefire and form an alliance with the Hidden Leaf.]
[During the alliance ceremony, the Gold and Silver brothers launched a sudden attack, assassinating the Second Raikage before leading an elite force to hunt down the Hidden Leaf delegation.]
[The Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, held the rear alone to cover his subordinates' retreat.]
[Your father chose to stand side-by-side with the Second Hokage until the very end.]
[In that battle—]
[The Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, fell.]
[Clan Leader Hagoromo fell.]
[You beca an orphan.]
[That sa year, you visited your father's grave. There, you encountered Orochimaru, who was also dressed in black. His parents had also perished in the war.]
[He said to you, "Kaede, the fragility of life is sickening. I will find the eternal truth."]
[You patted his shoulder but said nothing.]
[With every great nation suffering massive losses in combat power, the First Shinobi World War ca to an end. Hiruzen Sarutobi succeeded as the Third Hokage.]
[At his inauguration, he spoke a phrase to all the villagers of the Hidden Leaf that would echo throughout the history of the shinobi world—]
["Wherever there are leaves, fire shall blaze. The fire's shadow will illuminate the village, and new leaves shall bud."]
[To fill the talent gap left by the war, the Third Hokage aggressively implented a new policy: the "Three-Man Squad" system.]
[One Jonin ntor would lead three Genin. The classic configuration of two boys and one girl was designed to maximize survival rates through complentarity (and the occasional love triangle).]
[This year, you are eleven years old.]
[The Third Chapter officially begins.]
***
Kitahara Kaede opened his eyes.
"You're late."
A familiar tone.
Kaede snapped back to reality and turned his head.
Tsunade was leaning against a wooden railing by the roadside.
Two years had passed, and she had grown quite a bit. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail that draped over her shoulder, and her features were shifting from the roundness of childhood toward a more defined, sharp elegance.
But her way of speaking hadn't changed a bit—arms crossed, glancing at him sideways, the corner of her mouth slightly downturned.
"Yeah, I'm late."
Tsunade's mouth twitched; it was that subtle expression of "since you admitted it, I can't really get mad."
She straightened up from the railing and looked him up and down. When her gaze passed over his right hand, she paused for a mont.
The scar.
A piercing wound that ran from the palm to the back of the hand—the mark left when a kunai had been thrust through and pulled out.
Four years had passed, and new skin had covered the old wound, but the scar tissue was a slightly different color than the surrounding skin. It was visible if you looked closely.
Every ti Tsunade saw it, she lingered for a second.
"Let's go," Tsunade said, turning around. "Sensei is waiting for us at Training Ground Three."
She had already started walking.
Kaede followed. After a few steps, he fished sothing out of the side pocket of his tool pouch.
"Did you eat breakfast?"
Tsunade's pace faltered. "Why are you asking?"
"I figured you didn't."
He held out a rice ball. It was wrapped in bamboo leaves and still slightly warm.
Tsunade didn't take it. "I already ate."
"Every ti you say you've eaten, it ans you haven't."
Tsunade's eyes narrowed. "Are you being annoying on purpose?"
She snatched the rice ball, unwrapped the leaves, and took a bite. She chewed a few tis without comnting, walked a few more steps, and took another bite.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kaede saw her cheeks bulging, looking like a hamster guarding its food.
"Is it good?"
Tsunade ignored him.
"Your mouth."
Tsunade blinked. "What?"
"On the right. There's a grain of rice."
Tsunade quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand and then glared at him. "Can't your eyes look anywhere else?"
"I'm looking at the road."
"You were clearly looking at ."
"By the way."
The tips of Tsunade's ears turned a faint red, though it wasn't obvious, hidden by her stray blonde hairs.
She sped up her pace, moving half a step ahead of him.
"Hurry up, we're going to be late."
"You're the one who's late."
"I was waiting for you!"
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