Six months at the Academy had taught me one very clear lesson: I was a scholar, not a brawler. I was still dead last in every physical drill. My shuriken throwing was so weak that the targets didn't even have to move to dodge; the things usually just plopped into the sand halfway there. My only claim to fame was the written exams my photographic memory meant I was basically a walking textbook, outclassing everyone by a mile.
As for chakra, I was in a weird kind of stalemate. I could mold it perfectly now, but the amount was still a joke. It was like having the world's most precise fuel injection system hooked up to a lawnmower's gas tank. I had enough juice to sense my own energy, but actually casting a real jutsu? Not happening yet.
On the bright side, because I had to "squeeze" so hard just to get that tiny spark, my control was surgical. While the other kids were sloshing their chakra around like buckets of water, I was handling mine like a laser-guided scalpel.
One evening, my dad came home early. He looked at me probably sensing my frustration after another day of being lapped by the "jock" kids in gym class and sighed.
"Sayo," he said, setting his gear down. "You've been at this for a while. I think it's time we see what we're working with. Let's test your affinity."
"You mean chakra natures?" I looked up, genuinely curious. I'd read about them Earth, Fire, Water, Wind, Lightning. They were the building blocks of everything.
"Yeah." Sharyu pulled an old, locked wooden box from under his bed. He took out a small piece of paper that looked like it had been through a war. "Focus a bit of your chakra into this. Just a thread. Don't push too hard."
I took the paper. It felt brittle. I closed my eyes, focused on that tiny, obedient spark in my gut, and pushed it into my fingertips.
The paper reacted instantly.
The center of the paper suddenly turned damp and soft, feeling like wet clay. Almost at the same moment, the edges turned dry and brittle, followed by a sharp hiss as a tiny, razor-thin slit appeared in the paper.
Sharyu's eyes widened. "Earth... and Wind. A dual nature. I had a feeling."
Earth meant stability and defense. Wind meant cutting power and speed. They were opposites in a lot of ways, but they were the core elements of the Hidden Sand.
"Having the talent is one thing," Sharyu said, his voice turning serious. "But you need the chakra to actually move the needle. And right now, your battery is still way too small for this."
I didn't let it get me down. Knowing the "flavor" of my energy was a huge step. "Dad, do we have any old training manuals? Anything on how to use these?"
Sharyu hesitated. He looked at me for a long time, then he got up and moved an old cabinet against the wall, revealing a hidden compartment. He pulled out a bundle of dusty scrolls.
"These are my old notes from when I was in the Puppet Squad," he said, handing them over. "There's some basic Wind and Earth stuff in there. And some puppetry theory. Read them, but don't try to practice the hard stuff yet. I mean it."
I treated those scrolls like they were made of gold. Over the next few days, I spent my nights devouring them. My dad's notes were solid he was a guy who knew his fundamentals. I started mapping out the physics of Wind-style "Shape Transformation" and Earth-style "Nature Transformation."
Then, while I was looking through a scroll about Earth Wall construction, I noticed something weird. The core of the scroll felt thicker than it should be. I poked around and realized it was hollow. I managed to pop the seal, and a tiny, ancient-looking parchment roll tumbled out.
I unrolled it and my breath hitched.
The handwriting was ancient, more like research manuscripts than a training manual. It was filled with terms I recognized from my old life: magnetic flux, iron sand, particle manipulation. It was a series of failed experiments and complex formulas. One name was written all over it: Second Kazekage, Lord Suna Mon.
The manuscript was talking about an attempt to fuse Earth and Wind natures into something new. Something called Magnet Release.
According to the notes, they were trying to create a way to control iron sand using magnetic fields. They'd hit a massive bottleneck something about the energy conversion not being "clean" enough. They'd eventually labeled it an "impossible fantasy" and buried the data.
I sat there in the dim light, my heart pounding.
Magnet Release. That was the legendary bloodline of the strongest Kazekages. And my dad had the original research notes?
I started connecting the dots. Our family name, Sunna... the Second Kazekage's name, Suna Mon... Lady Chiyo's weirdly close relationship with my dad... it all clicked. We were a side branch of the Kazekage's family tree. A branch that had probably lost the ability to use the bloodline, but kept the research as a consolation prize.
A massive wave of "engineer-brain" adrenaline hit me.
In my old life, I knew exactly how magnetism worked. I knew about solenoids, polarity, and electromagnetic induction. The Second Kazekage had been looking at this through the lens of a ninja, but I was looking at it through the lens of a guy who had spent ten years designing automated machines.
If I can't have a big battery, I thought, I need a lever.
In physics, a lever lets you move a huge weight with a tiny amount of force. Magnetism was the ultimate lever. If I could master this "failed" technique, I wouldn't need a massive chakra pool to win a fight. I'd just need to generate a precise magnetic field and let the laws of physics do the heavy lifting with a cloud of iron sand.
I looked at the complex formulas on the parchment. To Suna Mon, they were a dead end. To me? They were a blueprint for a wireless interface.
I was a five-year-old weakling with no stamina. But for the first time, I saw a path where that didn't matter.
I just had to finish what the Second Kazekage started.