Chapter 3
"You six, go home and write a letter of apology. I want it on my desk tomorrow," said Homeroom Teacher Masaki Yuto.
Just as Asakawa Naoki expected, the man didn't ask for an explanation or even pretend to care about what led to the fight. He simply issued a blanket punishment to everyone involved.
It was this kind of apathy that made school bullying so rampant in the first place. The bullies had no reason to stop—no one held them accountable.
Asakawa Naoki glanced at Yamagami Taro and the other four boys. The fear in their eyes was plain as day. He knew then that he'd accomplished what he set out to do. Even if he ended up being expelled, they probably wouldn't dare to lay a finger on Kushina again.
"…Why did you help me?"
Walking beside him after school, Uzumaki Kushina finally broke the silence. There was curiosity in her voice—but also something softer, something almost like… gratitude.
She'd been touched when he stood up for her in class, sure. But the moment he took a beating for her—without hesitation—that had gone deeper. That had reached her heart.
Since she'd fled the Land of Whirlpools, no one in this foreign village had stepped up for her like that.
Asakawa Naoki scratched his head, offering a crooked smile that twisted awkwardly at the scab on the corner of his mouth. "I couldn't stand watching them treat you like that. And we're friends, right?"
The smile was more of a grimace than anything, but it was genuine. And somehow, that made Kushina smile too—really smile. The kind of smile that came from somewhere warm.
"Friends, huh? Then I'll call you Naoki from now on. And you can call me Kushina."
In Japan, names were personal. People usually stuck to surnames unless they were close. The four who bullied her had only called him "Asakawa," but Naoki, coming from the Celestial Empire, didn't really care for those kinds of rules.
And besides, in the ninja world, everyone had similar surnames anyway. First names just made things easier.
"…Okay. Kushina."
"Thanks for today, Naoki," she said, her voice soft. The bruises still hurt, but her heart felt lighter than it had in days.
"You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow."
They went their separate ways not long after. Once Kushina was out of sight, Naoki finally let himself exhale—and immediately winced.
Pain flared up across his body. Sure, Yamagami Taro and the others were only seven, but so was he. A kid's punch still hurt when you were in a kid's body.
He'd managed to protect his vital spots well enough, but his left eye had definitely taken a bad hit. It was probably swelling already.
Still, Naoki didn't regret it. This was how you dealt with bullies—direct and loud.
It was just a shame he couldn't become a ninja. Once those boys learned actual ninjutsu, he wouldn't stand a chance.
"Whatever. The Second Great Ninja War is right around the corner. With their luck, they'll be cannon fodder before they even graduate."
That thought offered a bit of dark comfort.
Being a ninja wasn't all glory. It came with a short life expectancy. Maybe staying in Konoha, quietly surviving until after the Akatsuki attacked, wasn't such a bad idea after all.
But…
Naoki clenched his fists.
…Deep down, he still wanted to be strong.
He'd been given a second chance at life in a world like this. Was he really supposed to live like an average civilian, powerless and forgettable?
Maybe that would've been fine in his old life, back in the peaceful Celestial Empire. But not here. Not in a world where strength meant survival.
By the time he reached his home—a modest one-story house on the outskirts of the village—his thoughts were still spinning.
Konoha had changed a lot over the decades. The center of the village now belonged to wealthy clans and high-end businesses. As the child of two ordinary Chunin, Naoki's family couldn't afford anything near that area.
He stepped inside and headed straight for his room. Once the door was shut and the windows drawn, he pulled out a scroll from a hidden drawer.
A simple white scroll.
He'd picked it up at a market stall back in China, just before he'd been sent to this world. At first, he'd hoped it contained powerful ninjutsu. But after all kinds of testing—water, heat, even dripping his own blood—nothing had appeared. The thing was stubbornly blank.
After weeks of trying everything he could think of, Naoki had given up. Maybe it was just a fake.
He unrolled it again now out of habit, staring at the clean, empty surface.
Completely blank. Just like always.
"…Maybe I really am just meant to be an ordinary person."
He sighed, setting the scroll aside and reaching for another one—this one from his biological parents.
This scroll wasn't blank. It contained chakra refining techniques, neatly written instructions, and years of notes from his parents.
He'd read the thing hundreds of times, memorized every line. He'd followed every step, tried every method. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sense chakra.
Not even the faintest flicker.
If he could just refine a little bit, even a fraction, he could still chase a physical path like Might Guy or Rock Lee. Effort could make up for talent.
But reality was cruel. Not a single spark.
He had a theory, at least. Chakra was formed by fusing spiritual and physical energy in a perfect 1:1 ratio. But while he'd inherited this body from Asakawa Naoki, the soul inside it came from another world—his world.
If the soul and the body weren't fully compatible, then maybe that fusion was impossible.
Still, he gave it another shot. One more try, just in case.
No response.
"…Am I really supposed to give up here?"
His hands trembled as he put the refining scroll back on the shelf. His eyes fell once more on the white scroll.
Almost on instinct, he opened it again.
And froze.
Words had appeared.
Lines of text filled the scroll—elegant, ancient, and completely unfamiliar. Naoki's eyes widened. His heartbeat quickened. Even the pain in his bruised face faded into the background.
"'Basic Qi Refining Technique'…"
"Four foundational stages: refine essence into qi, qi into spirit, spirit into void, void into the Way…"
His breath caught. His whole body trembled with excitement.
Immortal cultivation.
He couldn't believe it. While he'd failed to sense chakra, this—this was something else entirely.
He wasn't a ninja. But maybe… just maybe, he didn't have to be.
Compared to chakra, which consumed the body's own energy and shortened its lifespan, cultivation relied on absorbing external energy—mana, spiritual essence. It was cleaner, more sustainable, and ultimately offered far greater longevity.
Yes, the path of a ninja could lead to power. But that path was born from the Otsutsuki clan, from the fruit of the Divine Tree. It wasn't truly free.
This… this was a path that belonged to no one. A path that could be his alone.
"If I can cultivate… who the hell needs chakra?"
Asakawa Naoki clenched the scroll tightly.
"I won't be a ninja," he said aloud, voice shaking with conviction. "From this day forward, I'll walk the path of cultivation."
"In this world of chakra and war… I will become a true immortal."
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