The next few days passed in a blur of pain, sweat, and progress.
{Author Note: This will cover Day 3 to Day 6.}
Morning: Chakra Control
[Scene: Day 3 – Leaf on the Forehead]
The forest behind Training Ground 3 was quiet in the morning—perfect.
Naruto sat cross-legged on a stump, a single leaf trembling on his forehead.
It refused to stay still.
Focus the chakra… evenly… keep it stable…
The leaf fluttered. Fell.
"Tch—again."
He made five clones.
All sat with leaves on their heads, imitating him.
Most failed instantly. One clone managed to hold the leaf for ten seconds.
Naruto recorded the results in a notepad.
"No talent. Just repetition."
He worked until dusk. His head throbbed, his eyes twitched, but eventually—
The leaf stayed. Still.
For thirty seconds.
He grinned.
[Scene: Day 4 – Tree Walking Begins]
"Channel chakra to your feet. Maintain it. Walk vertically."
Simple words from the academy. Brutally hard in practice.
He stood before a tree trunk, feet bare, chakra flowing.
He took two steps up—then dropped like a stone.
THUD.
Clones nearby groaned in sync. All had fallen.
"Too much chakra. Or too little?"
He adjusted, trying again.
Step. Step. Step.
Slip. Slam.
But on the 42nd attempt, something clicked.
A clone reached halfway up the tree and stayed there.
Naruto's eyes widened.
Poof.
"Less chakra when landing. Anchor only when needed…"
He nodded and pressed on. Legs shaking, focus burning.
By afternoon, he managed to run five full steps up the trunk before losing balance.
[Scene: Day 5 – Tree Walking Mastered]
That morning, he didn't make clones immediately.
He stood still before the same tree. Eyes closed. Chakra slow and steady.
He stepped on.
Walked five feet.
Then ten.
Then he ran all the way up—flipped—landed hard, but upright.
He blinked.
"…Did it."
He created ten clones—each spread out across five different trees, racing, jumping, adapting.
They climbed faster, longer, even practiced fighting upside down while staying stuck to branches.
One clone even started experimenting with running sideways around a tree in full circles.
By nightfall, Naruto could sprint halfway up a tree and leap off without losing his chakra flow.
His legs ached. He'd burned through most of his stamina. But his control was improving.
[Scene: Day 6 – Water Walking Attempt]
He stared at the creek near the forest's edge.
"Tree walking's one thing… this is supposed to be harder."
He removed his sandals, stepped onto the water—
And immediately sank.
SPLASH.
Spitting water, he growled, made a clone, and tried again.
Again. Again. Again.
Hours passed. The sun shifted.
By almost afternoon, one clone managed to stand on the surface for a full three seconds.
Another clone took that and adapted: increase chakra slightly just as water pushes back.
Naruto tried it himself.
This time, he didn't sink immediately.
He teetered, arms flailing—
But he stayed afloat for five seconds.
Eventually, he tried to walk slowly—haltingly—across the creek, sweat dripping down his chin, chakra burning behind his soles.
"Still unstable…" he muttered, panting.
A clone tossed a rock at him. He caught it mid-air and stayed balanced.
"Better."
Afternoons: Taijutsu Correction
[Scene: Day 3 – Forest Clearing]
The sun was high. Sweat stung his eyes. His shirt clung to his back.
Naruto stood barefoot in a small forest clearing, facing off against two shadow clones.
His stance was wide. Guard up. Knees bent.
But the clones weren't attacking.
They were mirroring him—mocking his form.
"You're stiff," the clone on the right said, adjusting its elbows just slightly, based on memory it received the day prior while observing various shinobi physical training. "Your center of gravity's off."
"Yeah," the other added. "You've been leaning too far forward for years. You drop your shoulder before every right jab. It's a tell. Even a genin could counter it."
Naruto gritted his teeth. "Tch. I know…"
He'd spent six years at the academy punching air and kicking logs—doing kata after kata, all wrong. Mizuki had corrected nothing. Probably on purpose.
So now, he was fixing everything.
From scratch.
[Scene: Day 4 – Training Ground 5, Hidden Observation]
One clone crouched in the underbrush, watching a pair of Leaf chūnin go through taijutsu drills.
Footwork—tight, controlled, circular.
Counters—fast, economical, efficient.
Every movement had purpose. Every step carried intention.
The clone didn't blink.
Back at home, Naruto summoned five more clones to analyze what the observer learned. One replayed the movements with drawn chalk figures on the wall. Another listed common stances and corrections.
Naruto's real body then mimicked the refined stances—heel pivots, hip rotations, hand guard adjustments—again and again, forcing his body to forget the useless repetition of six wasted years.
"Muscle memory can be unlearned," he muttered, sweat dripping down his nose. "But only if I break it first."
[Scene: Day 5 – Clone Combat]
That day, he created ten clones and set one rule:
"Beat me. No holding back."
They swarmed him.
He ducked the first strike, rolled under a sweeping kick—but the third clone landed a hit to his ribs.
Another caught him with a hook punch when he overreached.
Naruto grunted, stumbled—but didn't stop.
"Again!"
And again.
And again.
He was bruised, bloody-lipped, and coughing—but learning.
His punches got tighter.
He stopped telegraphing movement.
He learned to use his smaller frame for speed, to get inside an enemy's guard, and hit where it hurt.
He even created a clone just to observe his fights, analyze his own behavior from the outside, and offer corrections.
That night, his body ached.
But his posture was better.
His blocks more reflexive.
His breathing smoother.
[Scene: Day 6 – Taijutsu Journaling and Philosophical Shift]
That morning, before training, he opened his journal and added a new page.
"Taijutsu isn't just brawling. It's rhythm. Flow. Reading your opponent."
He noted key lessons:
1- My old form makes me predictable.
2- Strength means nothing without stability.
3- Fakes and feints can save your life.
4- Don't rush—control the pace.
5- Pain is feedback. Use it.
Later that day, he practiced slow-motion forms with a wooden stick across his back to keep his spine aligned. Every movement was deliberate, every motion balanced.
For hours, he moved between katas and freeform sparring with clones.
He wasn't graceful.
Not yet.
But the wild swinging and flailing was gone.
Now, Naruto's taijutsu had bones—the beginning of a real style. One born not from genius, but from sweat, observation, and obsession.