Konoha's ninja school stood quiet, its classroom heavy with the scent of dust and aged wood. Shadows stretched long across the floor as the sun sank low.
Ryo Honda limped to the front, his chunin vest hanging loosely on his frame. "Fail the Transformation Jutsu test today, and run ten laps around the playground," he shouted.
Students muttered at their neat desks, their voices low. "Another test? We just had one," a boy grumbled under his breath.
Ryo raised his voice, silencing the chatter. "Enemies do not test you. These tests build skills to keep you alive." He pointed sharply. "Kakashi, go first."
A chubby boy with spiky hair groaned, slouching in his seat. "Kakashi always goes first. The teacher picks him on purpose."
"Kakashi is a genius," another student snapped, glaring. "You cannot even do the Transformation Jutsu."
The chubby boy leaned forward, undeterred. "Kakashi is not the only one. What about Dosuke?" He stared at Dosuke Okamoto, eyes bright with expectation.
"Dosuke, beat Kakashi!" the boy cheered loudly.
Dosuke sighed, brushing his bangs off his forehead, ignoring the outburst.
Kakashi Hatake, son of Konoha's White Fang, stood apart from the rest. While students bickered, he formed hand signs with swift precision. Smoke puffed around him, and he transformed into Dosuke, wearing a gray high-collar shirt, white shorts, and dark ninja boots. The fake Dosuke carried no trace of laziness, his thin arms sharp and commanding.
"Your turn," Kakashi said, his copied face fixed with dead-fish eyes.
Dosuke rose, straightening his short sleeves and shorts. On the platform, he wove hand signs, smoke swirling thickly. A perfect Kakashi appeared, mirroring those same dead-fish eyes.
"Is it okay?" Dosuke asked, his voice steady in Kakashi's form.
"Great job," Ryo said, nodding firmly. "Transformation Jutsu can save you in enemy lands. You two, sit down."
Smoke burst as both boys released the jutsu, passing each other on their way to their seats.
"When do we fight?" Kakashi whispered, his tone low and challenging.
Dosuke glanced at him, meeting his gaze. Kakashi saw a soft boy—gray shirt, white shorts, slanted bangs, round eyes, small nose, pale skin. * How is this guy tied with me? * Kakashi thought. * He looks too gentle. *
"I do not want to fight you," Dosuke said, settling into his seat. "Guy always wants to fight you."
Kakashi frowned, his eyes narrowing. "I am number one. How do you stand equal with me?"
"I understand," Dosuke replied calmly.
He turned to Might Guy behind him. "Guy, Kakashi wants to fight you. It has been a while."
Guy leaped to his feet, one hand on his hip, the other pointing at Kakashi. "Yes! A true man's battle, Kakashi!" he declared, grinning wildly.
"Might Guy, sit down!" Ryo shouted, his voice sharp. "Did you pass the test? Come up!"
"No need, teacher," Guy said, already moving. "I cannot do the Transformation Jutsu yet. I will run ten laps—no, twenty laps—to burn my youth!" He bolted out the door.
"Kakashi, I will fight you when I return!" Guy's voice echoed from the hallway.
Kakashi rubbed his head, frustration clear. He glanced at Dosuke, who squinted with a sly smile. * Those squinting eyes hide something, * Kakashi thought. * He is not what he seems. *
Obito Uchiha stood, his orange goggles glinting. "Ha! Kakashi, are you scared? I am the strongest in class. I fear no challenge!" he boasted, puffing out his chest.
"No one challenged you, Obito," Rin Nohara said, tugging him back to his seat.
Kakashi sighed, muttering, "Another fool." He slumped, resting his head on his arms, ignoring the class as students took turns performing the Transformation Jutsu.
Rin settled beside Kakashi, her voice soft but firm. "Stop picking on Dosuke."
A gentle voice joined in. "Dosuke only scores high in book tests. That raises his rank. He is too kind to fight."
Dosuke turned, seeing Shizune's warm smile. * Good thing I am not weak, * he thought. * Girls like Shizune defend me. *
"I plan to join the Konoha Medical Class, Kakashi," Dosuke said, his tone even. "If you get hurt, do not ask me to heal you."
Kakashi glanced up, smirking faintly. "Who cares? With your frail look, you fit the medical class. Others can protect you." He closed his eyes, dismissing the conversation.
"Are you really joining the medical class?" Shizune asked, her eyes curious.
Dosuke nodded, leaning back. "Yes, but they value book knowledge. I need to study more."
Shizune tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes. "I might surprise you. I know a strong medical ninja who can guide you."
"I look forward to your surprise, Shizune," Dosuke said, his smile genuine.
The afternoon dragged on with tests. Guy never returned, still running laps when school ended.
After dinner, Dosuke sat on his bed, focusing inward to refine chakra. Two hours later, he slumped, exhausted. "No progress," he muttered, his chakra weak and unchanged.
* How do I survive in this ninja world? * he thought. * Others get special powers or huge chakra. I have nothing. Just normal chakra, no boosts. *
Dosuke had refined chakra daily since age four. By five, his chakra grew slightly, but never enough.
"I will join the medical class," he said, determination hardening his voice. "At least my chakra control is strong." He raised his hand, green light glowing as the Mystical Palm Technique enveloped his palm, ready to heal wounds with precise chakra.
Few in the medical class mastered this jutsu. For Dosuke, it came easily, his control flawless.
He recalled his first attempts at climbing trees and walking on water. Others stumbled, but Dosuke balanced chakra in his feet effortlessly, sticking to trees and gliding over water as if born to it.
Dosuke was not from this world. On Blue Star, he fell asleep on a plane. When he woke, he was Dosuke Okamoto in the *Naruto* world—no accidents, no meteors, just a new life.
He stopped the Mystical Palm Technique, rising from his bed, and slipped out into the night.
In a dark forest, leaves crunched underfoot, the cold wind howling through twisted branches. "Konoha Whirlwind!" Guy shouted, his leg sweeping low with fierce power.
Dosuke vanished in a puff of smoke, a log crashing where he stood. "Substitution Jutsu," Guy muttered, scanning the shadows.
"Water Bullet!" Dosuke called, a marble-sized water ball hurtling forward, shrieking through the air.
Guy dodged, the bullet piercing three trees behind him, splintering bark with a crack.
Dosuke faced Guy, pointing a finger. Guy charged, shouting, "Konoha Steel Fist!" His fist aimed for Dosuke's stomach, fast and unyielding.
A thin water film shimmered over Dosuke's body, absorbing the punch, the impact dissolving into ripples.
"Water Bullet!" Dosuke shouted again. Seven small water balls shot toward Guy, grazing his scalp and slicing strands of hair.
"Enough!" Guy said, waving his hands, panting. "Your water film stops my punches every time."
Dosuke pointed to two stones nearby. "Sit. I will heal your wounds. Do not train so hard."
Guy grinned, dropping onto a stone. "You are here to fix me."
Dosuke's hands glowed green, the Mystical Palm Technique covering Guy's bruised hand and arm. Cuts from striking a wooden stake closed swiftly, healing at a visible speed.
"Thanks to you, Guy," Dosuke said, his voice quiet. "Without our spars, I would not have mastered the Mystical Palm Technique."
His mind drifted to a year ago, when their training first began.