Leaf + Chakra + Forehead = Success

Two Years Old

I'd already begun to accept the absurdity of my situation. The fact that I was brushing my teeth with something that smelled and tasted like rosemary only reminded me how bizarre this world was. Konoha's toothpaste—if you could call it that—was a thick, oily substance made from herbs. It wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't exactly minty fresh either.

Standing on a step stool in front of the mirror, I carefully brushed my teeth with the wooden toothbrush they'd given me. The stiff bristles poked at my gums if I wasn't careful, and the triangular head felt more like a tool designed to inflict minor injuries rather than clean teeth. I had to wonder—was everything in this world designed to train us to be more aware, even personal grooming? Lose focus for a second, and this toothbrush would jab your gums like a kunai.

It wasn't the first time I'd been reminded that I wasn't in my old world anymore. Some days, the differences were subtle, like the brush, and other days, it was glaringly obvious.

I spit the rosemary-flavored paste into the sink and rinsed my mouth, staring at my reflection in the mirror. It still caught me off guard sometimes—this new face of mine.

I looked like a Yamanaka, or at least mostly. My hair was ash blonde, which was quite unique compared to the signature golden blond the clan was known for. Mine was curled thick yet always tamed, nothing like the sleek, straight hair that was their trademark. My eyes were a stormy grey, cold and sharp, starkly contrasting to the softer, more delicate features of most Yamanaka. Apparently, according to my father, the only other person in the family who had eyes like mine was my great-grandmother.

It was strange, seeing this mix of familiarity and difference. I knew, of course, that I'd crafted this appearance myself back at the Rebirth Bureau, making sure I looked every bit as striking as I felt I deserved. My parents thought I got my features from my mom's side of the family, which was convenient, since genetics seemed to work a bit differently here. In any case, I knew it wouldn't be long before the marriage proposals started flooding in.

I sighed. The curse of unparalleled beauty.

###

It was a chilly night, the breeze carrying the cool scent of the sea, despite the fact that Konoha wasn't exactly close to the coast. The seasons were changing—autumn settling in—and the trees were shedding their leaves, carpeting the village in a thin layer of gold and amber.

I always found it fascinating how the Land of Fire's trees didn't fully lose their leaves, but instead, they gradually shed them to make way for new growth. The Harashima trees—the massive sentinels that towered throughout the village—seemed to do this more than any others, scattering their old leaves across Konoha like a natural blanket. 

I sat on the back porch of our house, listening to the wind rustling through the fallen leaves and the soft clinking of wind chimes. Our home, nestled at the farthest edge of the Yamanaka compound, pressed right up against the fifteen-meter walls of Konoha. It was peaceful out here, especially at night. The paper lanterns hanging above me swayed gently in the breeze, casting warm light against the bright reds and yellows of the porch's wood. 

I took a deep breath, smelling the earthy scent of fallen leaves and cool night air. I could see why people fell in love with Konoha. Under the canopy of the great trees, it felt like the village was cradled in a protective embrace, hidden away from the chaos of the world beyond its walls. It was almost magical—like living in a forest that had decided to become a village rather than the other way around. 

But as much as I appreciated the beauty of it all, I knew better than to get swept up in the allure. Konoha was a ninja village first and foremost, and beauty here often hid sharp edges. 

I pushed myself up from the porch and hopped down onto the grass, the cool blades brushing against my bare feet. A single leaf fluttered down from one of the massive trees, fresh and vibrant. I caught it between my fingers and stared at it for a moment, turning it over in my hand. 

The leaf-sticking exercise. I hadn't tried it yet, but now seemed as good a time as any. Alone, under the moonlight, with no one around to watch or interfere. It was a small milestone, really, but an important one. Chakra control exercises were foundational for any ninja. For me, though, this wasn't just about training. It was about commitment. It was a declaration. 

By sticking this leaf to my forehead, I was acknowledging that I'd chosen this path—the path of a shinobi. And I knew what came with that choice. Pain. Suffering. Blood. Death. It was inevitable. 

Did that make me a monster? Knowing what I'd have to do to achieve my goals, was I already lost?

I'd answered that question long ago. I was just stalling now.

With deliberate care, I placed the leaf on my forehead and focused, channeling my chakra to the spot where it rested. The sensation was familiar by now—like a current of energy pulsing through my body. I expected this to be easy. 

The leaf slid off without even the slightest resistance.

I frowned, catching it before it hit the ground. I tried again, this time focusing harder, but it fell off just as quickly. My irritation flared. This was supposed to be simple.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I knew what the problem was. I wasn't visualizing it correctly. Just channeling chakra wasn't enough. There had to be intent behind it, a clear mental image. 

I placed the leaf back on my forehead, and instead of just sending chakra to the spot, I imagined the leaf glued to my skin, like it was magnetized, pulling itself to me. I felt the shift almost immediately. The leaf seemed to tug itself from my fingers and attach to my forehead with a satisfying pull.

I cautiously pulled my hand away and shook my head like a dog shaking off water. The leaf stayed in place, firmly stuck.

I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face.

"I'm two years old and I'm basically already a magic ninja," I whispered to myself, the absurdity of it all hitting me at once. "It's over for you bitches."

I'd never been so giddy in my life. I mean, sure, this was nothing—just a basic chakra control exercise—but at two years old, the thrill of actually doing something with chakra felt monumental. It wasn't Rasengan or anything close, but it was a start. 

I started giggling. And then laughing. It bubbled out of me, uncontrollable and infectious, until I was standing there, arms raised in triumph, laughing like I'd just unlocked the secrets of the universe. I felt unstoppable, like I could take on the world with this leaf stuck to my forehead. It was a ridiculous feeling, but one I couldn't help savoring. 

I was still laughing when I heard the sound of the door sliding open behind me.

Mom stepped out onto the porch, drawn by all the noise, I assumed. I spun to face her, the leaf still firmly stuck to my forehead. "Look, Mom! Look what I can do!" I grinned, bouncing on my feet with a genuine excitement I didn't have to fake.

Her reaction, though, caught me off guard.

Her smile faltered, just for a second. Barely noticeable, but I saw it. Her eyes widened, a flash of something—fear, maybe? Then, just as quickly, they narrowed, scanning the yard with that sharp, kunoichi gaze of hers. She was checking for something, or someone. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

"Satoshi," she said, her voice suddenly serious, "where did you learn that?"

The leaf dropped from my forehead as I lost concentration, blinking in surprise. What? I'd expected pride, or at least a bit of motherly amusement. But this... this was something else. She wasn't just curious—she was suspicious. 

For a split second, panic flared inside me. Is she suspicious of me? I scrambled to think of a plausible explanation, one that would deflect her concerns. She didn't seem angry, but she was definitely on alert, like she was looking for the piece of the puzzle that didn't fit. 

"I... uh," I stammered, rubbing the back of my head in the most innocent, childlike way I could muster. "Everyone knows about it. I think. It's a really common chakra control exercise, isn't it? I've heard people talking about it."

Mom's eyes narrowed a fraction more. "What people?" 

Crap. "I don't know, I don't remember," I said, trying to shrug it off. "Just... around. Am I in trouble?" I added, injecting a little whine into my voice and pouting for good measure. Kids are supposed to whine, right? Play the part, Satoshi. 

Her expression softened immediately. I could practically feel her maternal instincts kicking in. "No, sweetheart, you're not in trouble," she said, her voice warmer now, but still cautious. She bent down and lifted me up into her arms, and I went with it, wrapping my tiny arms around her neck. "It's just... you're so young. You shouldn't have people telling you things like that yet." 

Her hold on me was firm but comforting. I buried my face in her shoulder, trying to suppress the mixture of relief and anxiety rolling around in my chest. This was a close one. If I'd been caught doing something more advanced... well, I wasn't sure I could've talked my way out of it. Even at two years old, the ninja world didn't allow for things that couldn't be easily explained.

Thank god for the Mind Palace.

As she carried me inside, I rested my head against her, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing. It was funny, really. Here I was, worried about getting caught, and yet it was my mom, the person who'd raised the alarm in the first place, from whom I was taking comfort. I couldn't hold it against her, though. She was a trained kunoichi. She had instincts, honed by years of training. Reacting like this was just part of who she was. I understood that. It didn't make her any less of a mother—it just made her a ninja mother.

As we passed through the living room, something came over me. I knew I shouldn't push it, not right now, but... I couldn't stop myself. I'd already come this far, right?

"Mom?" I said, my voice small but deliberate.

"Yes, sweetie?" she asked, slowing her pace.

"Can you show me how to be a ninja?"

Her grip tightened for just a second, a brief moment of tension before she pulled back to look at me, her eyes searching my face. "Satoshi... you're too young. Even the brightest prodigies don't start real training until they're three." 

"I know, but... just a few things? Please?" I tried not to sound too desperate, but I couldn't help it. The sooner I started, the better. My mind was ancient, and I was already itching to push myself. "Just some chakra control exercises? Maybe some stretches? Nothing big." 

Her eyes softened, but there was a sadness in them that I didn't expect. She was quiet for a moment, just staring at me, her lips pressed together as if she was trying to decide something. I could see the conflict in her, the way her eyes flickered with hesitation. She wanted to protect me. I knew that. She didn't want me to grow up too fast, didn't want me to be swallowed by the world of ninja life like so many others.

But she also knew, deep down, that this was inevitable.

"Mom... I know I'm still little," I said, keeping my voice steady, despite the growing pressure in my chest. "I'm not asking to do everything. Just... some small things. Chakra control, maybe some basic taijutsu stretches. I can handle that, right?"

I watched her carefully, trying to balance the maturity in my words with the innocence she expected from me. It was hard to strike that middle ground, to act like a child when my mind had already lived a lifetime. But this was important.

She stopped walking, her eyes locking onto mine, and for a few seconds, I thought I'd pushed too far. But then, with a long, heavy sigh, she nodded.

"Alright," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Some chakra control exercises and stretches. But only in front of me, and only until I'm sure you can do them without hurting yourself. Is that clear?"

The grin that split my face was genuine this time. "Yes, Mom. I promise."

Her lips twitched, a small, reluctant smile playing at the edges. "You're growing up too fast, Satoshi."

I hugged her tighter, but inside, I was already strategizing. This was it—the beginning. And I was ready to push myself as far as I could go.