If you're up for it, you can join me for my daily routine," I said, extending a hand toward him.
Izumo caught my palm, hauling himself up with visible effort. He looked as though he'd been fed through a rock crusher and spat back out.
"Well, I don't have much time, and I'm pretty wiped," Izumo muttered, rubbing his stiff limbs and wincing as he favored his shoulder.
"It'll only be a couple of hours," I replied evenly, already turning toward my gear bag.
"I guess..." He scratched his head in confusion, clearly swayed by my sheer lack of doubt. "Alright, why not."
Time to dial up the resistance, I decided. My old weights couldn't handle more than 140 kg per leg, so I'd traded them in, paying a twenty-thousand ryo premium for the upgrade.
I felt the burden shift violently as the seals activated, reaching a staggering 150 kg on each limb. The earth groaned and splintered beneath my soles.
Focus. Don't let the center of gravity slip, I thought, bracing myself for the first step.
To a casual observer, I was merely standing still, but internally, a titanic struggle was underway. Every fiber of my muscle was taut to the breaking point, and my chakra pathways hummed with the constant, surging flow required to maintain both the weight and the ability to move.
Izumo stepped closer, opening his mouth to speak, but he froze. He saw how deeply my sandals had bitten into the hardened soil of the training ground, leaving jagged, heavy craters in my wake.
"What is this?" Izumo asked, staring incredulously at my feet and the way the dry earth spiderwebbed under my weight.
"Just a technique," I answered curtly, rhythmically feeding chakra into the seals to stabilize the load. "We'll start with a jog."
For Izumo, it became a grueling test of will. We circled the village, and while for him it was an exhausting long-distance run, for me, every stride was a battle to keep from sinking knee-deep into the dirt. We completed ten full laps. By the end, Izumo was literally collapsing, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his face a deep shade of crimson.
"You're... you're a maniac, Kotetsu..." he wheezed, sliding down the trunk of a tree.
I was exhausted too. Sweat stung my eyes, and my muscles burned as if molten lead had been poured into them. But I wasn't finished. Unsealing a massive, jagged boulder from a storage scroll, I heaved it onto my back and dropped into a push-up position.
Rest could wait. Only by pushing the body to its absolute limit while the tension was at its peak could I truly grow. My old methods were no longer enough for a shinobi.
One. Ten. Fifty.
Push-ups gave way to handstand balances, my chakra circulating at a frantic pace to maintain equilibrium. The final stage was the trees. I stood before a thick trunk and began a series of lashing strikes with my shins.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Bark exploded into splinters. I wasn't just hitting; I was concentrating the kinetic impulse at the moment of impact, honing both speed and rigidity. Each strike had to be faster than the last, despite the artificial gravity shackling my legs.
Izumo watched in a trance from the shade. His gaze was pinned to my movements. I delivered one final blow, funneling slightly more momentum into it than intended. There was no simple crack this time—only the heavy, visceral sound of wood being torn asunder. The entire trunk shuddered, and the ground around the roots heaved.
Crunch!
The massive tree tilted back with a slow, mournful groan. The roots, unable to withstand the colossal pressure, ripped free from the earth in a cloud of dust.
Overdid it a bit, I thought, watching the ancient timber settle into a fallen barricade.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and looked at my hands. A spike of dominance flared within me, but I crushed it instantly. Pride was a weakness I couldn't afford.
"It must be around 19:00 by now," I mused, casting a glance at the sky, which was now painted in the heavy orange and violet hues of sunset. The air had grown crisp, and the distant hum of the village reached the training grounds only as a faint, muffled echo.
Izumo had already headed out, leaving me in the gathering silence.
I closed my eyes, focusing the dregs of my chakra into the soles of my feet. With a sudden, explosive burst of movement, the world around me dissolved into a gray, telescopic blur.
Using Body Flicker, I cleared the distance to the residential districts in a few bounds, landing softly on a rooftop. The wind felt good against my skin, washing away the scent of salt and dust. From up here, Konoha looked peaceful.
This is what we live for, I thought, staring out at the horizon. There was still work to be done—more training at home before I could finally allow myself the luxury of sleep.
"Your mandatory mission begins thirty minutes from now," a voice announced at seven the next morning. An ANBU operative in a featureless mask had appeared at my door.
He handed me a sealed envelope. The cold porcelain of his mask betrayed nothing.
"Your squad will consist of six people. Muster at the main gate at 07:30. Objective: Escort a cargo shipment to the Land of Rivers and deliver supplies to our front lines. Rank B."
I scanned the roster. My team was there, along with a second group. One name was familiar—Tsubaki, a classmate of mine, quiet and diligent. But the second name made me frown.
Mizuki.
The very same teacher who would later trick Naruto into stealing the Scroll of Seals.
Strange, I mused. I thought he was Iruka's age, and Iruka is still a kid, not even in the Academy yet. Is Mizuki older? Or is this a different man entirely?
I'd never seen him at the Academy before. I wondered what kind of man he was now. The Third Hokage had once mentioned he had the potential for Jonin—if not for his rotten character and thirst for easy power.
There was no time for deeper thought. I checked my gear: tanto secured, kunai pouches topped off, storage scrolls sealed.
At 07:25, I arrived at the gates. Tsubaki was the first person I saw; she was adjusting her forehead protector, looking focused.
"Kotetsu, hi!" she said with a polite bow. "Are you on this mission too?"
"Yeah," I nodded, eyeing her kit. She was well-prepared.
"Hey there. And who's this?" I asked for the sake of formality, turning my gaze toward the boy standing a short distance away.
"Ah, yes. A pleasure to meet you," he said, stepping forward with a wide, practiced smile and an extended hand.
I bet it is, I thought, reaching out to meet his grip.
Let's see what you're really made of. If I remembered correctly, he was the type to kill his own comrades to get ahead. I made a mental note to keep a sharp eye on him, even as I caught sight of Guy and Genma jogging toward us in the distance.