A week had passed since Ryuji had bought his ninja tools, and he had thrown himself into intense training like a madman. The backyard of his house had transformed into a small battlefield, littered with the remains of shattered targets and embedded Kunai and Shuriken.
Every morning, as the sun barely kissed the horizon, Ryuji was already wide awake, swinging his small katana or practicing the precise movements of Kunai and Shuriken throwing.
He could feel the weight of his determination, as well as the tools in his hands.
The first few days had been rough. His aim had been terrible at the start, with Kunai flying everywhere except where he wanted them to go.
His small body was still adjusting to the ninja tools—tools designed for much older and stronger ninjas, not a five-year-old. But slowly, through sheer persistence, he began to improve. Each throw was more precise than the last, and each day, the targets he set up bore more marks of his accuracy. The system was quick to acknowledge his progress.
**"Kunai Throwing (Level 5): Your proficiency with Kunai has greatly improved, increasing both speed and accuracy."**
Each level-up came with a slight boost in his throwing speed, but it wasn't easy. The daily grind was grueling, with his hands often blistering, but the thought of becoming a ninja like in the anime kept him going.
Shurikenjutsu was no different. At first, it felt awkward in his hands, and learning how to flick his wrist just right took time. He focused on getting that perfect spin, something that made the metal blades whistle through the air before they hit their target.
**"Shurikenjutsu (Level 4): Increased proficiency in the use of shuriken, enhancing your throwing techniques and impact force."**
As much as he hated how difficult the training was, he couldn't deny the satisfaction of watching his Shuriken slice through the air with deadly precision. But if Kunai and Shuriken were difficult, the sword was something else entirely.
Ryuji's small katana, light as it was, still felt heavy in his untrained hands. Each swing was unrefined, his technique sloppy, and more than once he ended up flat on his back, the sword clattering to the ground beside him. Yet, with each mistake came a lesson. His stance improved, his grip tightened, and slowly but surely, he began to feel the flow of each movement.
**"Kenjutsu (Level 3): Basic mastery of sword techniques. Each level increases speed, strength, and control with a blade."**
He smirked, remembering how he had once struggled to even lift the blade properly. Now, he could slice through a straw dummy with ease, though he knew he still had a long way to go before he could consider himself anything close to a swordsman.
It wasn't just combat skills he was developing, though. Tired of the tasteless instant noodles that seemed to dominate his diet, Ryuji decided to learn how to cook. For the first time in his life—either his past one or this new one—he stood in the kitchen, staring at a pile of vegetables he'd bought from the local market, unsure of where to start. His first attempt had been a total disaster. Smoke filled the kitchen, and whatever concoction he'd thrown together ended up in the trash.
But, not one to give up, he tried again. With each new attempt, he learned something different. Don't burn the onions. Don't overboil the water. Add salt, but not too much. After a few more disasters, he finally managed to make something edible. The system, of course, acknowledged this new skill:
**"Cooking (Level 2): The ability to prepare basic meals. As proficiency increases, you can create tastier and more nutritious dishes."**
Ryuji stared at the simple dish of steamed vegetables he had managed to cook. It wasn't exactly five-star cuisine, but it was a hell of a lot better than the instant noodles he had been living off for the past few weeks. He had even bought some sweets from the market to treat himself, stuffing his face with dango and mochi as a reward for not burning his kitchen down.
It wasn't all bad, though. On one of his trips to the market, Ryuji had finally stumbled upon Ichiraku Ramen. The legendary shop, hidden between larger buildings, was almost underwhelming in its simplicity. But the smell—it hit him the moment he walked by. His stomach growled, and he couldn't resist. He ordered a bowl and practically inhaled the steaming broth and noodles.
"This…this is why Naruto ate ramen all the time," Ryuji said, slurping up another bite. _So damn good._
The experience was a reminder of why food was more than just sustenance. Eating well felt like a reward after all the harsh training. Ryuji made a mental note to come back to Ichiraku whenever he needed a break from the grind. But ramen and sweets couldn't distract him forever. There was still the matter of his ninja training. After all, no amount of dango or ramen could stop an enemy kunai aimed at his heart.
The tools he had bought were simple—a few Kunai, a couple of Shuriken, and the small katana strapped to his back. But they were his tools. The weight of the sword now felt comfortable on his back, a constant reminder of his growing skills. Each day, he practiced throwing his Kunai at increasingly difficult targets, honing his accuracy and speed. He practiced with his sword, cutting through dummies and working on his footwork.
His latest training involved combining his weapon skills with chakra control exercises. The Kinobori (Tree Climbing) and Water Walking techniques he had practiced earlier were proving useful for balance and focus. While throwing Kunai or swinging his sword, Ryuji would focus chakra to his feet, improving his overall mobility. He needed every advantage he could get.
The week had been exhausting, but satisfying in its own way. Ryuji could feel himself getting stronger, faster, more precise. His skills with Kunai and Shuriken were improving, his swordplay more fluid, and even his cooking, while basic, was better than nothing. He had begun to feel like a proper ninja—albeit a very, very young one.
By the time the evening rolled around, Ryuji sat in his small living room, the soft glow of the setting sun filtering through the window. He took a moment to relax, feeling the weight of the sword resting beside him and the soreness in his muscles from another long day of training. There was still so much more to do, so much further to go.
But for now, he was content. After all, he had ramen waiting for him tomorrow.