Hitoshi Akihito sat cross-legged in his room, the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the curtains. A medical book lay closed beside him as his thoughts wandered. It had been a long day filled with small but meaningful achievements. As his gaze fell on his hands, which had grown stronger and steadier through hours of training, he addressed the silent companion that had been with him since his rebirth.
"Nano," Hitoshi called out in his mind. "What exactly are your capabilities?"
Nano's monotone voice responded instantly. "Listing primary functionalities:
1. Accelerated Healing: Rapid recovery from injuries.
2. Enhanced Physical Abilities: Increased strength, speed, and agility.
3. Advanced Combat Skills: Improved martial arts techniques and reflexes.
4. Internal Monitoring: Real-time assessment of physical condition.
5. Environmental Analysis: Ability to analyze surroundings for strategic advantages."
Hitoshi nodded thoughtfully. Each ability had the potential to save his life in this dangerous world, but he needed to know how to use them effectively. "Good," he said. "From now on, every time I go on a mission, your first task is to analyze the area. Is that clear?"
"Yes," Nano replied.
Satisfied, Hitoshi leaned back against the wall, letting out a breath. "Nano, how am I doing physically? I've been working hard."
"Assessment: You are taller and physically more developed than average for a four-year-old due to optimized growth protocols. Current trajectory indicates accelerated progress before major growth spurts."
Hitoshi smirked. It was nice to have some tangible proof that his efforts were paying off. Even though he was just four years old, his body felt stronger and more capable than his peers. The thought filled him with a sense of pride and determination.
That evening, as he sat at the dinner table, he noticed a certain tension in the air. His father, Akihiro, seemed distracted, his movements slower than usual. His mother, Mayumi, kept glancing at him, her brows furrowed with concern. Hitoshi picked at his food for a moment before finally speaking.
"Father," he asked, tilting his head innocently, "is something happening in the village?"
Akihiro looked up, startled. He hesitated for a moment before letting out a small sigh. "Well, my son, the Kumo Village's delegation is arriving tonight."
Hitoshi nodded thoughtfully. His father, as a merchant with connections to various villages, often picked up bits of information. It wasn't surprising that he'd know about the Raikage's team arriving in Konoha.
"What are they here for?" Hitoshi asked curiously.
"To negotiate," Akihiro replied, his voice neutral. "Officially, it's about trade and alliances. But it's always more complicated than that."
Hitoshi's eyes narrowed slightly as he processed the information. He had read enough about Konoha's history to understand the significance of this event. His mind flashed to the events he knew were about to unfold. The kidnapping of Hinata Hyuga. The death of Hyuga Hizashi, Neji's father.
Hitoshi's small hands clenched under the table. "Is there anything I can do?" he thought to himself. The answer was obvious. No. He was just a child, powerless to intervene in the events that would shape Konoha's future. If this were ten years later, maybe he could have done something. But right now, all he could do was prepare for what lay ahead.
"Nano," he said silently, "optimize my shuriken-throwing skills."
"Affirmative," Nano replied.
Later that night, Hitoshi closed his eyes and entered the mental training realm created by Nano. The space resembled a wide, open field, the kind he had seen in movies from his past life. It was an ideal environment for practicing his aim and reflexes without the risk of physical harm.
"Set the target," he instructed, "to professional runners from my previous life. Make them run in random directions."
"Understood," Nano replied. A moment later, five figures materialized in the field. They were faceless but moved with the agility and precision of seasoned athletes.
Hitoshi took a deep breath, steadying himself as Nano provided a countdown. "In two seconds, two targets will move left and right, two will approach from the front and back, and one will run directly toward you."
The instant the countdown ended, the figures sprang into motion. Hitoshi's heart pounded as he tracked their movements, his hand instinctively reaching for the shuriken at his side. The runner coming straight for him moved with uncanny speed, dodging left and right with unpredictable steps.
Hitoshi hurled a shuriken toward the advancing figure. The runner twisted effortlessly, dodging the projectile. Another runner appeared in his peripheral vision, and he quickly turned, throwing a second shuriken. Again, it missed, the target slipping away with frustrating ease.
The simulation continued, the runners weaving and dodging like phantoms. Hitoshi's breathing grew heavier as he struggled to keep up. Each time he threw a shuriken, the target evaded it, their movements fluid and precise.
"Three consecutive failures," Nano noted, its monotone voice cutting through Hitoshi's mounting frustration.
"I know!" Hitoshi snapped, his face flushing. His grip on the next shuriken tightened as he tried to calm himself. The pressure was beginning to get to him, but he refused to give up.
He focused on the runner charging toward him, narrowing his vision to block out the distractions. Don't panic. Anticipate their next move. He waited, his muscles coiled like a spring, and just as the runner shifted to dodge, he released the shuriken with a calculated flick.
The projectile grazed the runner's side, drawing a faint ripple in the simulation. It wasn't a perfect hit, but it was progress. Hitoshi allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.
"Target partially neutralized," Nano reported. "Performance improving."
"Not good enough," Hitoshi muttered, resetting the simulation. "Let's go again."
Hours passed as Hitoshi honed his skills, each attempt sharpening his aim and reflexes. By the time he finished, his body was drenched in sweat, even though the exertion was purely mental. The training realm faded away, and he opened his eyes to the dim light of his room.
Lying back on his futon, Hitoshi stared at the ceiling.
End of the Chapter.
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