The next morning, Fūka woke up early, prepared breakfast for three, and after eating his share, grabbed the other two portions and ran next door to Obito Uchiha's house.
"Obito, are you up yet?!"
"Hehe, it's Fūka! Come on in," said a kindly old woman as she bent over to greet him with a warm smile.
This old woman was Obito's grandmother.
"Good morning, Grandma," Fūka said with a smile, handing over the breakfast.
"Thank you so much, Fūka," the old lady replied, her face lighting up with happiness at Fūka's thoughtfulness.
As Fūka stepped into Obito's home, he looked around and noticed that it was quite similar to his own house.
"Fūka, have a seat. I'll go wake Obito up," the grandmother said cheerfully.
"No need, Grandma. I came to ask if you have any training equipment, like sandbags or something, to help with physical conditioning?" Fūka asked directly.
The old lady tilted her head in thought, then nodded. "Ah, I remember that Obito's father used to train extensively because he couldn't activate his Sharingan. After he awakened his eyes, he discarded all those training tools. I couldn't bear to throw them away, so I secretly kept them. They should be in the small storage shed in the backyard."
Although she called it a small storage shed, it was more like a doghouse. Fūka had to squeeze his upper body in and rummage around before finally pulling out a large pile of scattered equipment.
There were leg weights, sandbags, iron weights, and bandages—quite a lot of stuff.
"Fūka, are you training for physical strength?" the old lady asked with a sigh, "Our families have always been neighbors, and our fates are so similar. Awakening the Sharingan is indeed very difficult."
Of course, Fūka wouldn't reveal that he had already awakened his eyes. He smiled and said, "Grandma, mastering physical techniques to their highest level is just as impressive as having the Sharingan."
In the final battle of the original story, Might Guy's Eight Gates technique, specifically the Eighth Gate, unleashed such explosive power that it nearly defeated Obito's Rinnegan, who was known for his incredible strength!
"Fūka, you're still young. Be sure to take care of your body while training." The old lady was genuinely kind and gentle, quite unlike the typical Uchiha clan demeanor.
"I understand. Thank you, Grandma."
After expressing his gratitude, Fūka laboriously carried the equipment back to his house and began arming himself.
He strapped a one-kilogram sandbag to each of his legs to strengthen his leg muscles.
Next, he attached half-kilogram sandbags to his arms to build his arm muscles.
As soon as he put on these weights, he felt an immediate difference. Walking became as if gravity had increased, and performing hand seals became increasingly difficult, causing his hands to feel stiff.
"This is just the beginning. I'll get used to it quickly!"
Fūka wasn't one to give up easily. From morning till night, he wore these weights, determined to adapt as quickly as possible.
Bang!
"Argh, it hurts so much!"
After falling from a tree once again, Fūka rubbed his sore bottom and struggled to stand up.
With the added weights, climbing trees, which had been easy before, now felt foreign, and his Chakra couldn't maintain his balance.
Walking on water was even more challenging.
"Sigh, am I aiming too high?"
Logically, with his Sharingan activated, Fūka should focus on developing it. With the Sharingan, he could certainly reach the pinnacle of success.
But thinking of the terrifying enemies in the Fourth Great Ninja War, was relying solely on the Sharingan enough?
Determined, Fūka's eyes grew resolute. Since he had been given a chance to experience this world again and had the Sharingan, he would not have lived a mundane life. Even if he couldn't reach the top, he would die on the path toward it!
In the following days, aside from refining his Chakra and practicing hand seals, Fūka ceased tree-climbing and water-walking, instead focusing on physical training. He poured sweat in the small yard daily, doing push-ups, sit-ups, squats, and every exercise he could think of.
With such intense training, Fūka's body inevitably struggled to keep up. Combined with the minimal food he had, he became increasingly frail.
"Fūka, you're pushing yourself too hard. Your body can't handle this!" Obito, seeing Fūka grow thinner every day, was genuinely concerned.
"It's fine, I'll get used to it," Fūka replied, cooking while shaking the iron pot to ensure an even heat.
Even with the weights strapped to his arms, he acted as if it was nothing. His skinny arms now showed traces of lean muscle.
After lunch, Fūka sent the chatty Obito away and continued his training.
After several days of relentless training, Fūka had adjusted to the weights. He resumed tree-climbing and water-walking, and the added weight made his control over his body more precise, and his Chakra became more responsive.
Slap, slap, slap.
Fūka walked on the small pond, creating ripples that reflected his blurred face.
He then began performing hand seals.
Rat—Ox—Tiger—Rabbit—Dragon—Snake!
"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"
A surge of violent energy gathered in Fūka's throat. With a sudden inspiration, he blew forward.
Boom!
A fireball the size of a basketball shot from his mouth, striking a withered tree trunk straight on.
Crack, crack!
The fireball exploded on impact, shattering the tree into pieces.
Fūka's eyes widened in disbelief.
The last time he practiced this jutsu was several days ago, and he had failed repeatedly. To his surprise, he succeeded on his first try now!
Feeling the power within him, Fūka seemed to understand something.
"Ah!"
Suddenly, his feet gave way, and he fell into the small pond. It turned out that his Chakra's fine control had been disrupted, causing him to lose balance.
"Still not professional enough."
Fūka crawled out of the pond, quickly washed up, and began adding more weight!
Previously, he had one kilogram weights on each leg, but now he increased them to two kilograms, doubling the weight.
His arm weights also went from half a kilogram to one kilogram.
The weight increase made Fūka's limbs feel heavy and stiff, as if his blood circulation was sluggish.
Without pausing, he immediately started running laps around the yard, quickly feeling his body heat up.
"So tired."
After running for a few minutes, Fūka was breathless.
"No, I need to run for another ten minutes!"
Fūka gritted his teeth, his eyes filled with determination.
One minute, two minutes, five minutes…
Finally, the ten minutes were up.
Bang!
Fūka collapsed onto the ground, or rather, was dragged down by the weights on his arms and legs. Sweat drenched the grass beneath him.
"Huff, huff… Why does it feel like it's getting heavier…"
Feeling dizzy, Fūka's vision darkened, and he passed out.