Asasu groaned, rolling his shoulders as he stretched. His entire body was screaming from yesterday's training. His arms ached from push-ups, his legs felt like lead, and his core felt like he had been punched repeatedly.
And yet, he still got up before the sun.
The Academy was starting in a week, and he wasn't going in unprepared.
His mother had even given him a break from working at the restaurant, saying he could use the time to focus on training.
Which was great.
Except that also meant his income was completely gone.
No more easy money from cleaning tables or delivering orders.
That left him with only one option: his savings.
Asasu sat on his bed, staring at the small wooden box where he kept his ryo. He had been saving for months, taking small jobs around the restaurant, stashing away whatever Kosu paid him.
He popped open the box and counted.
650 ryo.
Not much, but enough.
He flipped back to Osamu's training book, skimming through a list of recommended equipment.
There was a small section about weighted training, with a handwritten note from his grandfather.
"If you ain't training with extra weight, you're cheating yourself. Build up your endurance, and soon you'll feel lighter than air. But don't be stupid. Start with small weights, or you'll snap your legs like twigs. HAHAHA!"
Beneath that was a starter list of things to buy:
Weighted ankle and wrist straps- Start light, work up
A durable training vest- Heavy, but distributes weight evenly
Hand wraps- For protecting knuckles when punching hard surfaces and to look cool.
A sturdy wooden post- To train obviously
Asasu sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.
Guess I'm going shopping.
The Konoha marketplace was already busy by the time Asasu arrived, the morning sun casting golden light over the bustling streets. Merchants called out to customers, and stalls filled with everything from fresh produce to weapons and training gear.
Asasu made his way toward a small shinobi supply shop tucked between two larger buildings.
The inside was packed with shelves full of kunai, shuriken, wire, sealing scrolls, and other ninja tools. The air smelled faintly of metal and treated leather.
An older man with a scar across his chin sat behind the counter, flipping through a newspaper. He barely looked up when Asasu walked in.
"Looking for something, kid?"
Asasu nodded. "Yeah. I need some training gear."
The man raised an eyebrow. "You in the Academy?"
"Starting next week."
"Huh. Most kids come in looking for kunai and shuriken. You don't want weapons?"
"I'll get to that later," Asasu said. "Right now, I need weights."
The shopkeeper let out a low whistle. "That so? Smart kid."
He stood up, cracking his back before leading Asasu to a shelf full of weighted straps and vests.
"You don't want to start too heavy," the man warned. "What's your current training routine?"
Asasu hesitated. "Uh… push-ups, running, some balance training. Oh, and kicking drills."
The shopkeeper rubbed his chin. "Sounds basic, but not bad. If you're just starting, go with these."
He grabbed a pair of adjustable ankle weights, along with a wrist set.
"They're about five pounds each," the man explained. "Enough to add resistance without wrecking your joints."
Asasu nodded. "And a vest?"
The man walked to another shelf, pulling down a sturdy, dark blue vest with small compartments inside.
"This one lets you add weights over time," he said. "Start with ten pounds, and work your way up."
Asasu tested the material. It felt durable and heavy, but not restrictive.
"How much?"
The shopkeeper counted in his head. "Let's see… weights and vest together, that's about 500 ryo."
Asasu flinched.
That was almost all his savings.
But if he wanted to become stronger, he had to invest in himself.
He exhaled and handed over the money.
The shopkeeper smirked. "Good luck, kid. If you train right, you'll feel like a completely different person in a few months."
Asasu nodded, grabbing his new gear and heading out.
He had a week before the Academy started.
And he was going to use every second of it.
Back home, Asasu strapped on the ankle and wrist weights, tightening the vest around his torso.
The extra weight settled on him immediately. His limbs felt slightly heavier, his movements slower.
It wasn't unbearable.
But it was noticeable.
He rolled his shoulders, adjusting to the resistance.
Then he dropped into a push-up position.
The first push-up was a shock. His arms shook slightly under the added weight.
By the twentieth push-up, sweat was already forming on his forehead.
By the fiftieth, his muscles burned.
He wasn't stopping.
He gritted his teeth, forcing himself through it.
I can't rely on chakra to make me strong he thought.
So I'll build a body strong enough to keep up with those who can.
Every rep, every second of strain it was all worth it.
Because he refused to go into the Academy weak.