In the Shingo Shrine, within the grand Koshitanaga dojo, where ancient wooden pillars rose and sunlight gently streamed through traditional paper windows, the atmosphere was thick with serenity and contemplation.
Three figures sat in silent meditation, their slow, rhythmic breathing the only sound breaking the stillness of the place.
Before the first figure stood two women dressed in traditional clothing. One was young, around four or five years old, delicate in features and radiating innocence, while the other was older, a woman in her late twenties, whose face bore the marks of time and experience.
From their appearance, one could guess they were the shrine maiden and her apprentice, responsible for the rituals and upkeep of the place.
The child, the third figure, sat across from these two women, wearing traditional male attire for training in the dojo. He sat in the formal Japanese way, legs folded beneath him, showing discipline and respect, as the older woman observed him intently.
The elder woman's gaze was steady, focused on the child as if searching for something, scrutinizing every detail of his presence, while he remained silent and unaffected by her careful examination.
His expression reflected no tension or discomfort, as if patiently waiting for the right moment to speak. The surrounding atmosphere was charged with anticipation for what this wise woman would say.
Finally, after a long, heavy silence, the elder woman, Mikumo Koshitanaga, broke the stillness with her calm voice, which carried the weight of many years of wisdom.
She looked at Isamu, seated across from her, and said, "With the fractures and injuries you sustained, it was expected that your recovery would take no less than 12 weeks, maybe longer. Such wounds usually require a long time to fully heal."
She paused, observing Isamu's reaction, who remained calm, unaffected by her words.
Raising an eyebrow in slight surprise, she continued, "But it seems that the past month was enough for you. I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see you before me now. There are no signs that those fractures left any marks."
Isamu replied in a quiet, steady voice, "I didn't expect my body to heal so quickly. It must be thanks to the special care I received from you during this time. I am grateful for your attention and care."
His face remained calm, showing no particular expression, but inside his thoughts raced.
In his mind, he said to himself: "What is this incredible speed of recovery? What would you think if you saw the ninja monsters from the world I came from? Naruto had been healing his severe wounds for years using Kurama's chakra. Sasuke himself suffered life-threatening injuries in the Valley of the End—he was stabbed in one lung and lost his right shoulder, yet he recovered miraculously. And worse, in the anime, when he took a devastating blow from Naruto and fell from hundreds of feet onto hard rocks."
Thoughts flowed rapidly in his head, "Even more strange is how some ninja perform disfiguring surgeries, like replacing organs immediately, such as eyes or arms, and then use them in battle without any issues of organ rejection. Even ordinary ninjas have extraordinary abilities. They possess 130 trillion cells, about four times the number of cells in an average human, who has 37.2 trillion cells. Naturally, they exhibit superhuman strength, incredible speed, and exceptional abilities. Beyond that, an amazing ability to heal and recover. And that applies to me—being from the Uchiha clan means my capabilities will be far greater, not less."
Mikumo continued staring at Isamu, without saying another word, simply remaining silent as if waiting for him to clarify or reveal what was on his mind.
It felt as though she expected something from him, but Isamu wasn't sure what he should say at that moment.
"The words you said on the day you woke up, I will take as answers to the questions that may arise in the future. But my words must also be taken as a foundation for your future state.
I have my own plans, and I don't want to waste my time on something that may not lead to a known outcome," said Mikumo sharply.
Then, with firmness, she continued, "That's why I will now define our relationship. From now on, you will be a secondary student under me and will learn martial arts."
The young apprentice Chikage, who stood beside Mikumo, was taken aback. She looked at her teacher with wide eyes, filled with astonishment, as if she hadn't expected this decision.
Chikage, Mikumo's primary student, seemed stunned by her teacher's choice. Despite her young age, she was well aware of Mikumo's strength and standing in the martial arts world.
As for Isamu, he was shocked by Mikumo's words. True, he had spent a month healing under her care, and she had hinted in their first conversation that he might become under her command in the future, but he hadn't expected to be taken on as a disciple.
It wasn't because he underestimated himself; on the contrary, he was confident that his physical abilities surpassed most geniuses in this world, and even members of the ancient martial clans.
Isamu understood that Mikumo must have noticed his uniqueness while treating him. However, he knew that becoming a student wasn't just about physical potential—it also involved character and identity.
Each martial arts master had their own method of evaluating and accepting students. For Mikumo, it was clear that she was extremely selective in choosing her disciples. No student other than Chikage had appeared, and it should be noted that she had lived for over ninety years, yet still possessed the strength and wisdom that made her a legend in the martial arts world.
"What's the matter? Why aren't you responding?" Mikumo asked, watching him closely.
Isamu felt a mix of confusion and tension. "Isamu Uchiha, I see you, Master," he said, bowing quickly in respect, though his heart pounded.
"May I ask, do I still have the right to refuse?" However, he realized that even if he had the option to decline, it would be foolish to ignore such an opportunity—a master offering training, food, shelter, and care, allowing him to focus solely on his training. "Who would be foolish enough to refuse that?"
"I can't be that fool, especially in a world where I have no clear identity." He had come to this world through a dimensional portal, not through systems like the heroes in stories.
This meant he had no legal identity. Sure, he had the body of a child now, and even if the police caught him, he could claim memory loss and be sent to an orphanage until his family was found.
But that would mean taking many detours and worrying about other things before finding a good teacher and learning martial arts.
"Very well, from now on, you will be my disciple alongside Chikage," said Mikumo with firm resolve. "You must prepare, for your training will begin once I fully assess your condition."