The next few days passed in a blur of pain, sweat, and progress. Morning were given to chakra control exercises.
Day 3
The forest behind Training Ground 3 was quiet in the morning, a silence that felt perfect for focus. Naruto sat cross-legged on a weathered stump, a single leaf trembling precariously on his forehead. It simply refused to obey.
Focus the chakra… evenly… keep it stable…
The leaf fluttered violently. And fell.
"Tch—again."
He made five Shadow Clones. All sat instantly, mimicking his posture, each with a leaf placed gingerly upon their brow. Most failed instantly, they'd barely sit down before the leaf would slide off. Only one clone managed to hold the leaf for ten agonizing seconds before losing it. Naruto, eyes burning with stubborn intensity, recorded the results in a small, battered notepad. "No talent, just need repetition now."
He worked until the shadows stretched long and thin toward dusk. His head throbbed, his eyes twitched with strain, but eventually, the leaf stayed perfectly still.
For thirty full seconds and a raw, triumphant grin split his exhausted face.
Day 4
"Channel chakra to your feet. Maintain it and walk vertically."
Simple words from the academy texts but brutally hard in practice. He stood before a massive tree trunk, feet bare, the unfamiliar flow of chakra being forced through his soles.
He took two deliberate steps up, then dropped like a sack of stones.
THUD. Clones nearby groaned in perfect, frustrated sync. All had fallen.
"Too much chakra. Or too little?" He adjusted the flow, trying again and again.
Step, step, step, slip and slam.
But on the 42nd attempt, something clicked, a flash of intuitive understanding from the raw data of failure. A clone reached halfway up the tree and stayed there, an impossible inverted statue.
Poof. He recalled all memories of the last shadow clone
"Less chakra when landing, anchor only when needed…"
Naruto nodded, pushing aside the bone-deep ache, and pressed on. Legs shaking, focus burning like a newly stoked forge. By afternoon, he managed to run five full steps up the trunk before the invisible grip failed and gravity reclaimed him.
Day 5
That morning, he didn't summon a single clone immediately. He stood perfectly still before the same tree eyes closed. Chakra flow slow and steady, like a deep river.
He stepped on and walked five feet first, then ten and then he broke into a full run all the way up, flipped at the top, and landed hard, but perfectly upright, from almost five stories above the forest floor.
He blinked once. "…Did it."
Elation gave way to efficiency. He created ten clones, each spread out across five different trees, racing, jumping and adapting. They climbed faster, longer, even practicing fighting upside down while staying stuck to branches. One experimental clone even started running sideways, circling a trunk at a full sprint.
By nightfall, the original Naruto could sprint halfway up a tree, leap across a gap, and land on another trunk without losing his chakra flow. His legs ached, and his stamina was nearly spent. But his control was now a tangible and usable.
Day 6
He stood at the bank of the forest creek, staring at the clear, moving water surface. "Tree walking's one thing… this is supposed to be harder."
He removed his sandals, stepped tentatively onto the water, and immediately sank past his head.
SPLASH. Spitting out water, he growled, made a clone, and tried again and again. Hours passed and by almost afternoon, one clone managed to stand on the surface for a full three seconds. Another clone took that fleeting memory and adapted: increase chakra slightly just as the water pushes back.
Naruto tried it himself, this time he didn't sink immediately. He teetered, arms flailing like a drunk acrobat and was able to stay afloat for five seconds. Eventually, he managed to walk slowly, haltingly across the creek, sweat dripping down his chin, the concentrated chakra burning just behind his soles.
"Still unstable…" he muttered, panting. A perceptive clone tossed a small, flat rock at him. He caught it mid-air while staying incredibly balanced.
"Better."
Afternoons of all days were for Taijutsu
Day 3
The sun was high. Sweat stung his eyes, and his shirt clung to his back like a second skin. Naruto stood barefoot in a small, dusty forest clearing, facing off against two of his own Shadow Clones.
His stance was wide with his guard up and knees bent.
But the clones weren't attacking. They were mirroring him, mocking his sloppy form.
"You're stiff," the clone on the right said, adjusting its elbows slightly, having recalled the previous day's observation of trained shinobi. "Your stance's are off. You're giving away your stability."
"Yeah," the other added, arms crossed. "You've been leaning too far forward for years in academy. You drop your shoulder before every right jab. It's a tell, even a genin could counter that."
Naruto gritted his teeth. "Tch. I know…"
He'd spent six years at the academy punching air and kicking logs, performing endless, useless katas, all of them wrong. Now, he was fixing everything from scratch.
Day 4
One clone crouched in the underbrush of Training Ground 5, a silent observer watching a pair of Leaf Chūnin go through rigorous taijutsu drills.
Footwork and counters Every movement had purpose and every step carried intention. The clone didn't blink for second. Back at home after morning chakra control exercise, Naruto summoned five more clones to immediately process what the observer learned from chunin exercise. One replayed the movements by drawing chalk figures on a wall. Another listed common stances and minute corrections.
The real Naruto then mimicked the refined stances heel pivots, hip rotations, hand guard adjustments again and again, forcing his body to forget the useless muscle memory of six wasted years.
"Muscle memory can be unlearned," he muttered, sweat dripping down his nose. "But only if I break it first."
Day 5
That day, he created ten clones and set one simple rule:
"Beat me. No holding back." And then they swarmed him in a blur. He ducked the first strike, rolled under a sweeping kick but the third clone landed a solid hit to his ribs. Another caught him with a hook punch when he overreached.
Naruto grunted, stumbled with bloody-lipped and coughing but he didn't stop.
"Again!"
He was bruised and aching, but he was learning. His punches got stronger. He stopped replaying his movement over and over. He learned to use his smaller frame for speed, to slip inside an enemy's guard, and hit where it hurt most.
He even created a single, detached clone whose sole job was to observe his real body, analyze its behavior from the outside, and shout precise, cold corrections. That night, his body screamed. But his posture was better then before and is blocks were more reflexive.
Day 6
That morning, before training, he opened his journal and added a new page.
"Taijutsu isn't just about brawling. It's about reading your opponent." He noted his key, hard-won 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 and anger.
4. Pain is feedback, use it.
Later that day, he practiced slow-motion forms with a wooden stick lashed across his back to keep his spine perfectly aligned. Every movement was deliberate, every motion balanced.
For hours, he moved between katas and freeform sparring with his clones.
He wasn't graceful yet. But the wild, desperate flailing was gone. Now, his taijutsu had foundation, the undeniable beginning of a real fighting style. One born not from genius, but from sweat, sharp observation, and relentless obsession.