Chapitre 11: Hell
You know how some kids whine about having to clean their room? Yeah, well, try having a mom who decides that 2 years and 3 months is the perfect age to start ninja boot camp.
"Rise and shine, pup!" Tsume's voice cut through my dreams like a kunai through butter. "Time to start your training!"
I groaned, burying my face in Akamaru's fur. The sun wasn't even up yet. Was this really necessary?
Turns out, it was. Welcome to the life of an Inuzuka prodigy, where sleep is for the weak and every day is leg day.
Tsume's idea of a "training schedule" would make most adults cry. For a toddler? It was borderline insane. But hey, who was I to argue? I had a future to prepare for, even if my body thought it should still be learning to use a spoon.
First up: physical conditioning. And by conditioning, I mean Tsume chasing me around the compound while Kuromaru nipped at my heels. "Builds stamina and reflexes!" she'd shout as I scrambled to avoid becoming dog chow.
Then came chakra control exercises. "Focus, Kiba," Tsume would say, demonstrating how to make a leaf stick to her forehead. "Feel the energy flow."
I'd nod seriously, pretend to concentrate really hard, then let the leaf fall. Can't make it look too easy, right? After a few "failed" attempts, I'd finally get it, beaming with fake pride as Tsume ruffled my hair.
Midday was for ninken bonding. This, at least, I didn't have to fake enthusiasm for. Akamaru and I would roll around in the grass, play-fighting and working on our coordination. Sometimes Tsume would have us try to sense each other's chakra, which was... weird. Feeling another living being's energy mixing with your own? Not something they prepare you for in your past life.
Afternoons were for clan techniques. Beast Mimicry was first on the list, and let me tell you, it was a trip. Tsume demonstrated, her features sharpening, nails elongating into claws.
"Your turn," she said, watching expectantly.
I took a deep breath, focused on the chakra flowing through me, and... holy shit. It was like my body knew exactly what to do. My senses sharpened even further, my muscles coiled with new strength. I could smell things I didn't even know had scents.
"Remarkable," Tsume murmured, eyeing me with a mix of pride and suspicion. "You're a natural, pup."
Oops. Too good, too fast. Time for some strategic fumbling.
I let the transformation slip, stumbling a bit. "Hard," I mumbled, playing up the exhausted toddler act. "Can we do more later?"
Tsume nodded, but I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. Note to self: dial it back a notch.
Evenings were for "academic" training, which basically meant Hana trying to teach me to read. This... this was tricky. How do you pretend not to know something when you've got decades of reading experience tucked away in your brain?
"Sound it out, Kiba," Hana would encourage, pointing to simple hiragana characters.
I'd furrow my brow, pretend to struggle, then slowly sound out words I could read in my sleep. It was maddening, but necessary. The last thing I needed was to be labeled some sort of freaky genius and shipped off to ANBU before I could walk in a straight line.
By the time the sun set, I was exhausted. Not just playing-a-part exhausted, but bone-deep, muscle-aching, chakra-depleted exhausted. Turns out, no matter how old your mind is, a two-year-old body has its limits.
As I collapsed into bed, Akamaru curling up beside me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Sure, my everything hurt. Yeah, maintaining this charade was mentally exhausting. But I was making progress. Real, tangible progress.
In my past life, the most athletic thing I'd done was run for the bus. Now? Now I was on my way to becoming a ninja. A real, honest-to-god, chakra-wielding, jutsu-throwing ninja.
As sleep claimed me, one thought drifted through my mind: Naruto world, you have no idea what's coming. This old fart is going to turn your story upside down.
Just... maybe after a nap. A long, long nap.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone