The pain hadn't stopped.
Boiling water stung every inch of Kazuki's skin. His muscles screamed. His brain buzzed with the electricity of sensory overload. Every nerve felt like it had been dipped in molten glass.
And yet… he was still conscious.
Am I… being boiled for soup? he thought dimly. Is this how miso broth feels?
Around him, other kids were in various stages of misery. One boy had his face scrunched up so tightly it looked like he was trying to turn into a raisin. Another girl whimpered quietly, holding her breath like it might help.
Then there was Azula—floating dangerously close to the edge of her tub, red as a lobster."If I die, Kazuki, you can have my candy stash!" she croaked."You… had candy?" Kazuki muttered, too weak to sound betrayed.
The heat was suffocating. Steam curled into his lungs, thick and heavy. His heartbeat was a drum in his ears—deep, slow, and getting louder.
And beneath it all…Something stirred.
A pulse.A flow.
Chakra.
It was faint at first—like a forgotten hum in the background—but the more he focused, the louder it became.
The purple liquid hissed softly, almost like it was whispering secrets only he could hear.
"Is this… what it means to be alive?" he thought. His body trembled, his mind reaching out instinctively.
And then—
Crack.
Something inside him broke. Not his bones. Not his muscles.
Something deeper. Something ancient.
Like rusted shackles snapping open after centuries in chains.
His heart skipped a beat. His spine tingled. And then—
FWOOOOOOSH.
The bath exploded in a whirl of chakra as ghostly blue light flared around him. It wasn't heat—it was resonance, wild and untamed, swirling around him in waves that shimmered like fire yet flowed like smoke.
The entire bathhouse went dead silent.
Even the steam recoiled.
Azula's eyes went wide. "Holy crap, Kazuki's turning into a ghost!""No," Obito croaked from his own tub, "he's going Super Saiyan…"
The boiling water seemed to still, like the world itself had paused to watch.
The braided kunoichi—the one who'd thrown him into this hellish soup—rose to her feet, Sharingan spinning. She stepped into the haze, her expression unreadable, and reached for him.
Her hand closed around his arm, warm and firm, lifting him like he weighed nothing.
"Careful," she said with a faint smirk. "You keep glowing like that and I might have to keep you as my personal lantern."
Kazuki tried to respond, but his brain was caught between ow and wow.Up close, her wet braid clung to her collarbone, her eyes burned like molten ruby glass, and her faint smile could've been mistaken for dangerous affection.…Great. I'm either dying or falling in love. Possibly both.
She pulled him from the cauldron, water streaming from his body. The towel clung to him, steam curling off his skin, his black eyes wide and shimmering—like polished obsidian struck by lightning.
"You…" she murmured, scanning him. "You broke your internal block. You awakened your flow. And you resonated your physical and mental energy."
Then, to his surprise, she smiled—genuinely.
"Congratulations," she said. "You're the first to fully sense your chakra. On your first attempt."
"…Is that rare?" he asked weakly.
The third kunoichi, silent until now, chuckled and jotted something in a small notepad."Extremely. Most kids don't awaken it clearly for a week. You did it instantly."
The braid-haired one leaned close, her voice low enough only he could hear."You're probably a sensory type."
"…What does that mean?"
"It means you're naturally sensitive to chakra. You're going to have a very annoying, very amazing future ahead of you." She tossed a towel over his head like a crown.
Still dazed, Kazuki managed: "Did… the person who invented this method… ever try it themselves?"
The kunoichi's smirk widened. "Not voluntarily. Warring States era researcher. Tested it on clan kids to shorten chakra awakening. It worked… but when the kids grew up, they tied him up and threw him in the same bath as payback. Since then, only jōnin run this ceremony."
Once Kazuki's flare faded, the rest were pulled out one by one.
Some were quiet. Some were disappointed. One boy was curled up in the fetal position, shivering like a boiled shrimp.
Many… had failed.
Among them were Obito and Azula—both dripping wet and red as tomatoes.
Obito lay sprawled on the floor like a fallen war hero. "I… I saw him."Kazuki crouched down. "Saw who?""The Sage of Six Paths," Obito whispered reverently. "He offered me tea. I think I accepted."Kazuki bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
The kunoichi overheard. "Did he offer cookies too?"Obito nodded solemnly. "They were peanut butter. He told me the meaning of life… but then the tea got cold."
Azula snorted. "Please. I saw a dragon made of lightning. Way cooler than your ghost grandpa."Obito turned to glare at her. "Was your dragon handing out snacks? No? Didn't think so."
The side-bun kunoichi smirked. "With chakra sensing that nonexistent, Obito-kun, you'll probably be meeting the Sage a lot.""I'm not ready to be a monk," he groaned.
In the bathhouse common room, Kazuki stood near the instructors, glancing at the kids with red-rimmed eyes.
"What happens to the ones who didn't sense anything?" he asked quietly.
"Nothing bad," the braid-haired kunoichi said. "First-try awakenings are rare. Very rare." She ruffled his damp hair. "Like you."
She turned to address the group. "Those who didn't succeed will rest tonight and return tomorrow for the same cycle: exhaustion, banquet, bath, and meditation. Some will awaken tomorrow. Some in a week. Some never. But trying means you're not failing."
Then she added with a faint smirk, "Our Uchiha clan is the only one with more shinobi than civilians. Keep that in mind."
Obito raised his hand. "So… more food, more boiling, more hallucinations?""Yes," the braid-haired kunoichi replied. "And maybe another meeting with the Sage.""I'm writing a memoir," Obito muttered. "Conversations with Ghost Grandpa."
Kazuki chuckled, voice raw from the heat. But inside, there was something else.
Warmth.Not just chakra.Hope.
For the first time since being reborn, he wasn't just surviving—he was progressing.