In the days that followed, Elder Shima brought a different mix of fruit every single day.
Not only did the presentation steadily improve, the taste did too. The fruit itself was already excellent, but the combinations were clearly thought out. Fresher, better balanced, and undeniably delicious. It was obvious she took this very seriously.
Tōma gradually came to believe Elder Fukasaku’s words. Shima’s cooking skill really was outstanding. It was just that her specialty didn’t align with human biology. That wasn’t her fault. It was his.
As they spent more time together, Tōma also realized that Elder Shima wasn’t difficult to get along with at all. She spoke harshly, sure, but her actions were kind. Sharp tongue, soft heart. As long as Tōma sincerely praised the food after eating, she would be in a good mood, and the topic of bugs slowly disappeared from daily conversation.
Life on Mount Myōboku was intense.
Beyond physical training, Tōma didn’t neglect ninjutsu. His Substitution Technique hand seals had been streamlined down to just two, and with his current speed, he could activate it in under half a second.
His biggest challenge remained combining Deep Focus State with movement. Even now, the most he could manage was blinking while maintaining it. Still, that was progress.
His work with space-time techniques and sealing formulas also advanced steadily. He had begun breaking down the final simplified form of the Flying Thunder God seal. Creating his own functional marking was only a matter of time. As for engraving it onto weapons like the Fourth Hokage once did, that was a distant goal.
Jiraiya had also upgraded his library clearance. Tōma could now access documented ninjutsu up to B-rank. A-rank techniques remained restricted, and S-rank, forbidden techniques, and clan secrets were completely off-limits.
Even so, this was already far more than most genin would ever see.
That was the advantage of connections. Disciple of one of the Sannin. Junior to the Fourth Hokage. Grand-disciple of the Third Hokage.
He learned quickly, but there was always more to learn. The pressure was heavy, yet strangely satisfying.
Konoha Village. Fujimoto residence.
Tōma dragged his exhausted body out the door.
He wasn’t heading to training. He was meeting his shadow clone.
He no longer attended afternoon classes. The Third Hokage had already instructed Iruka, and Tōma’s reputation was more than enough to keep anyone from bothering him.
Technically, he could just dismiss the clone remotely.
But he didn’t.
Every day after school, he would personally switch places with his clone and walk Ino home himself.
There was a reason for that.
Once a shadow clone was created, its thoughts diverged immediately. It became a version of him frozen at that moment. Even though all memories returned upon dispelling, the experience still felt... wrong.
Like being outdone by his past self.
So after the first time, he stopped using clones for anything personal. Studying and routine interactions were fine. Moments that mattered weren’t.
If he ever used a substitute again, it would have to be one directly controlled by his main consciousness.
Ino glanced at him as they walked. "Tōma, you look really tired. Are you okay?"
He nodded. "Just worn out."
Her expression shifted. "You’re not sick, are you?"
He laughed softly and reached out, gently pinching her cheek. "Relax. I don’t get sick that easily."
Her face turned bright red, but she didn’t pull away. "Then what’s going on?"
He explained simply. The one attending school was a shadow clone. His real body had been training elsewhere, and he was at a critical point.
"So... are you a clone right now?" she asked curiously, squeezing his hand in return.
"No. I’m the real one," Tōma replied. "I wouldn’t use a clone when I’m with you."
"Why not? Aren’t they both you?"
"Because in that moment, it wouldn’t feel like me."
She didn’t fully understand, but her smile said enough.
After walking her home, Tōma met with Rock Lee as promised and helped him recover with chakra stimulation. He could tell Lee was training even harder than before. Might Guy had noticed the gap widening.
Hope still existed.
But it was getting thinner.
That night, Tōma collapsed into bed, head spinning from memory feedback, body completely spent.
And yet...
He endured.
Because this life didn’t last days.
It lasted three full years.