Reincarnation into the world of Naruto with the system

I stand before my makeshift training dummy. A couple of deep breaths, and my mind is clear. Familiar, fluid steps forward, and the previously calm Chi bursts forth like an explosion. Six strikes, two of which I land on the splintered remains of the wooden mannequin.

I wince slightly—I miscalculated again. Then I wince again—this technique is too powerful, and one of the strikes injured my hand. I need to work more with Chi, distributing it evenly.

I sense my mother approaching. Yes, it's already dawn; I got too carried away with training. Time to head to the fields—food isn't as important to me. Let my father and mother eat more while I start tending our land. Chi—like blood, strength, and the soul of our world—exists everywhere and in everything. And as long as I am in harmony with the world, I don't need base sustenance.

With a tinge of sadness, I look at my worn-out, faded qipao and the similarly tattered pants. Both were passed down from my father, but the sizes don't match—his figure was much broader at my age. I need to earn some money... perhaps travel to the neighboring province? There seems to be something going on there.

I'm not particularly interested, but my parents have given me so much. Can't I improve their lives? I can—and I will.

Although, I'm content with what we have. Even this old clothing, soaked with my father's love and care, saved for his son, and my mother's, who patched it after my failed training attempts, is something I wouldn't trade for anything. Even all the treasures in the world pale before this oversized qipao.

But enough thinking. I'll help my mother and head to the fields right after.

With a jolt, I wake up, ignoring the system notifications about resting on the bed and restoring everything. What a strange dream. I wonder what it was? Those definitely weren't my memories, especially with that old straw-roofed house.

 Those memories didn't seem connected to this world either—I could feel it. So what was that nonsense?

Never mind, I'll figure it out later. For now, I need to train. I get up and start doing exercises, effortlessly slipping into the perception of the world granted by this style. Almost too effortlessly, and the movements feel too fluid... just like in the dream, where the unknown figure approached the wooden dummy to practice strikes.

I sense someone disrupting the harmony by watching me. This causes me to stumble and fall, snapping me out of my trance completely.

I glance at three consecutive notifications about agility increases, feeling my muscles gradually recovering. That hurt. It seems my body isn't ready for such a pure style, but how quickly it boosted my agility! Half an hour of this dancing, and I might hit a ten... but I'd spend the rest of the day recovering.

"Itai... Itai..." I mutter, starting to get up and looking around, "noticing" Uzuki.

"Yuugao-san, did you need something?" I ask politely.

"I came to invite you for training, but I can already see that's unnecessary. Where did you learn those moves?" She leans forward slightly. Hmm, I won't jump to any conclusions just yet about the reason for such interest. It could just be professional curiosity rather than orders from one of the ruling elders.

"You won't believe this, Yuugao-san, but I dream about them." And it's not even a lie; just this morning, I genuinely dreamed of something far more refined than what I'm trying to replicate here. Honestly, this fallback into an "incomplete style" works perfectly. Let them guess whether I'm modestly pretending to start from scratch or if I really dream of such things… With a neighbor like mine, who knows? Not much to fear; I can always jump into a loop if things go south.

"Hmm, is that so." She drags out her words.

"Alright then, go wash up while I prepare breakfast," she says, though I can sense her doubt about the second part of that sentence. I have a feeling I'll have to rush through washing up and end up cooking myself anyway. Looks like she really hasn't made anything more complicated than instant ramen in ages. And she's ANBU! What a disaster.

And it turns out exactly as I expected. When I walk into the kitchen, the smell of burning fills the air, and Yuugao stands in front of the fridge, pondering what to take out. Judging by how little of the contents has been used, she hasn't had time to ruin much yet.

Gently nudging the embarrassed girl aside—yeah, it must sting when a kid cooks better than you—I take over. As I cook, we chat.

And somehow, she manages to extract all the details about my methodology from me. In what situations it's applied, why the movements are like that, what they're designed for, and so on. Damn, considering I answered everything, it's no longer something that can be brushed off as a dream. But the understanding came to me when I got my "prize status," and today it deepened sharply, so it really looked like I was developing this style myself. A couple of questions where I hesitated before answering could easily be attributed to ongoing adjustments. Damn, no one's going to believe the "it's just a dream" excuse if Yuugao includes this in her report. And yeah, she's a real pro—getting that much information out of me!

"Wait." I'm about to start eating when I'm stopped by Hitomi, who appears in the doorway. What do they all want from me?

"You need to eat four to five times a day for proper growth." She gently states, taking some food off my plate and putting it into a bento box—my portion for lunch. Then she pulls another box out of the cupboard and divides the food into two portions.

"A light breakfast. Two meals at the academy, and another snack after coming home." She explains.

"And what about Yuugao-san? Oh, and good morning, Hitomi-san!" I reply with a Naruto-style smile.

"She can take care of herself," Hitomi replied calmly and coldly, seemingly resigned to her new name.

Wait!

"Academy?" I asked, surprised. I hadn't received anything yet—I didn't even know if I'd been enrolled!

"We came with that information yesterday, Naruto. Remember? I told you that you've been assigned to Class A," Yuugao sighed from her seat. Damn, with everything going on, I completely missed that detail. Well, at least it fits the clumsy fool persona I'm building.

"Right! That's why you're here! But don't classes start later?" I vaguely recalled something like that.

"They do. Today, there'll be the Hokage's speech, an introduction to your teacher and classmates, and a few orientation lectures. For the Hokage's speech, all students must attend with their parents or guardians, so if you don't mind, I'll go with yo—" Yuugao began explaining, but Hitomi interrupted her.

"I'll go with him." It was said gently, but there was something unsettling about her tone.

"I think—"

Yuugao didn't even bother interrupting this time, but the look she gave Hitomi, briefly shifting her focus away from me, was enough to make Yuugao choke on her words. Creepy!

"I don't mind! So, are we going now, Hitomi-san?" I asked, feigning cluelessness. Sorry, Yuugao, but I'll take a page from the rats and abandon this sinking ship—my survival instincts are screaming at me.

Huh? Wait! Can I change my decision? Why did Hitomi-Tsuru's relationship percentage suddenly spike to 85%? That's practically the event-completion zone—only her actions remain now. Someone, please kill me!

"No, not yet. First, you have a calligraphy lesson," Yuugao said, sounding almost vindictive. She must already know I'm completely hopeless at that. Or was the vengeance not directed at me?

New quest received!

Complete the entire calligraphy course within a year, demonstrating diligence and persistence to Uzuki-sensei, and earn her favor.

Reward: The admiration of an ANBU member and a genuinely sweet girl—isn't that enough?

Penalty for refusal/failure: Risk of failing to capture the target before graduating from the academy. Relationship drop by 10%. Relationship increase with Tsuru/Hitomi by 15%.

Accept?

Yes/No.

The last part terrifies me! Of course, yes. If I refuse, I'm afraid one psycho will tear me apart while Yuugao won't even bat an eye. Yep, at least this way she might end up scratching from guilt-induced hives!