"Huff... Huff..."
In the forested hills behind Konoha, Minato lay sprawled out on the ground, chest heaving, his chakra nearly depleted.
He hadn't been doing basic drills today. Instead, he'd once again trained in high-speed movement—a technique he'd developed on his own, not something anyone had taught him.
His eyelids grew heavy, and as sleep pulled him under, one image clung to his mind: a woman with long red hair. Her face was turned slightly to the side, her figure hazy and indistinct.
But that vivid crimson hair—it was unforgettable.
"Don't leave me!"
In the stillness of the woods, Minato bolted upright with a cry. He felt something wet at the corner of his eye. He wiped it away with a fingertip, touched it to his tongue.
Salty. Bitter.
Only then did he realize—he was crying.
"What… what's wrong with me…"
Minato murmured to himself. He couldn't even remember what the dream had been exactly—only that a heavy weight pressed on his chest, a dull ache that lingered deep inside.
The tears had fallen on their own.
Running a hand through his bangs, pressing his palm to his forehead, Minato tried to calm down. As a shinobi, one must always keep a clear mind—no matter when, no matter where.
But he found he couldn't. That strange feeling just wouldn't go away. It came from somewhere deep within—primal, impossible to resist.
"Could it be… something to do with Kushina?"
He wondered silently. The red hair in his dream matched Kushina's perfectly. But the woman in the dream had clearly been older than her—by quite a bit.
He thought back to how oddly he'd been acting all day. That mysterious red-haired woman kept flashing through his mind, and his outburst over Kushina… there had to be some connection between them.
Unfortunately, his knowledge was far too limited right now to figure out what that connection might be.
So, he forced himself to let the thoughts go and turned his attention inward to examine his body—and what he found startled him again.
Although he hadn't experienced the explosive chakra growth of the night before, the chakra he'd just drained had already recovered by more than half.
Minato was dumbfounded. In the past, restoring this much chakra would've taken him hours of focused meditation—if not longer.
But now? All he'd done was sleep. And it had recovered on its own.
That kind of recovery speed—no, that kind of recovery mechanism—was unheard of, especially for someone with only genin-level chakra reserves. Even a jonin wouldn't bounce back this fast.
This wasn't training anymore. Something had changed in his body—ever since last night when his chakra had suddenly surged.
In the ninja world, some people were born with extraordinary talents. From birth, they harbored powers that set them apart—like the Hyuga and Uchiha clans of Konoha, who possessed dojutsu that ordinary people could never dream of.
Byakugan. Sharingan.
Such powers didn't always manifest at birth. Sometimes, they awakened later—through rigorous training or triggered by certain conditions.
Beyond eye techniques, there were many similar phenomena in the shinobi world—abilities passed down through bloodlines, known as… Kekkei Genkai.
For those who carried a Kekkei Genkai, their powers often awakened suddenly under certain stimuli, resulting in a massive leap in strength.
Minato didn't know if he counted as one of those. His parents were civilians, not ninja. He wasn't from some powerful clan.
So for now, he decided to keep this change to himself. It had happened too suddenly. He needed time to observe and understand.
With that, he slowly got to his feet, turning to face a new direction.
Swish!
Chakra surged into his legs and burst out in a flash—Minato's body vanished, leaving behind a blurred afterimage. His long golden hair caught the light, making him look like a streak of golden lightning.
He came to a clean, steady stop a dozen meters away. Glancing back at where he'd been, a slow smile tugged at his lips.
He was beginning to adapt to this sudden surge of power. And today, his control over high-speed movement had become smoother, more instinctive. Chakra consumption had dropped significantly.
Had another Konoha ninja been present to witness it, they would have been shocked.
Because the technique Minato had figured out on his own… was already beyond the level of a genin.
This was—Body Flicker Technique.
In the days that followed, the red-haired woman continued to appear in Minato's mind—always connected, somehow, to Kushina.
And after that incident in the forest, he and Kushina had slowly grown closer—thanks in no small part to Mikoto's subtle matchmaking. As for Akasaka U, the one Minato had injured, he hadn't shown up at the academy for days.
Minato didn't talk about it, but he knew. His current abilities weren't any weaker than a full-fledged genin. That punch he'd thrown in a fit of rage… it wouldn't be easy for Akasaka to recover from.
Over the week of lessons, Kushina's own traits had gradually revealed themselves.
She was utterly hopeless when it came to theory. She couldn't even remember the most basic concepts about chakra.
But that didn't mean she lacked talent. On the contrary—her chakra control was progressing smoothly, and her stamina was absolutely off the charts.
At the academy, freshmen were expected to train both theory and chakra refinement—and on top of that, they had to do regular physical exercises.
Most of the class groaned and whined about it every day. But Kushina? She never even looked tired.
That incredible endurance had both Mikoto—descendant of a noble clan—and Minato—now approaching genin strength—secretly in awe.
Every day after class, Minato would sense hidden figures tailing Kushina from the shadows. He no longer tried to follow them.
He knew—they were there to protect her.
He had his own guesses about who Kushina really was. But someone of that status… he knew it was far beyond what someone like him could reach.
Still—just seeing her at school every day was enough to make him happy.
A week later, Akasaka U finally returned to class.
Minato hurried to apologize. But all he got in return was a poisonous glare.
"Namikaze Minato… this isn't over," Akasaka growled. Still, he didn't try to start anything—because he knew full well, he wasn't the stronger one anymore.
That morning, Shiroda-sensei walked into the slightly noisy classroom.
The moment he entered, the students instinctively returned to their seats.
His eyes paused briefly on Minato, then shifted away.
"Class," he said, "today's lesson has been changed. We'll be having a special guest instructor."
There was something in his tone—a flicker of emotion.
The students, still half-asleep and uninterested, didn't think much of it at first. To them, any teacher meant another day of suffering.
But Shiroda's next words sent a ripple of shock through the room. One by one, eyes widened and jaws dropped.
"Today's special instructor… is a personal student of the Third Hokage himself."