Naruto: The Rise of an Unknown Chunin

Training Field Number 32, located in a forest in the northwest region of Konoha.

What's the problem with so-called "geniuses" reincarnated in another world who can't even create their own jutsus? Tobirama Senju, a master in this art, proved that being a genius required more than empty words—it required innovation.

Rensu wasn't a genius, but he was far from mediocre. In his past life, he had secured sixth place in the highly competitive Economics program at Princeton University. Maybe he could find a solution? Pessimism was the first step toward defeat, so no thinking about alien threats or the second ninja war that could break out at any moment.

The scrolls the Hokage had given him contained three C-rank fire jutsus and one D-rank, as well as theoretical foundations on the transformation of fire nature.

Before beginning serious training, Rensu wanted to test something that had intrigued him since he found himself in this new world: a fire jutsu. The body he now inhabited carried in its memory the knowledge of C-rank jutsus, and he knew that, before any theory, he needed to experience it for himself.

It wasn't euphoria, but there was a childlike curiosity in feeling, in practice, what he had once only known as fiction. He formed the hand seals with precision, the movements flowing almost automatically: Cobra, Ram, Monkey, Boar, Horse, Tiger. He took a deep breath, feeling the chakra being directed to his lungs, a rising heat that seemed about to overflow.

— Katon: Goukakyuu no Jutsu.

The flames erupted from his mouth in an orange whirlwind, illuminating the clearing with a glow that danced between the shadows of the nearby trees. The fire surged through the air; its strength wasn't overwhelming, but the heat still made the air shimmer slightly before it hit the river. The impact created a muffled boom, and a cloud of steam lazily rose, tinted by the late afternoon sun.

Rensu remained still, watching as the steam disappeared and the river returned to its usual calm. The spectacle was modest, but it carried a unique beauty. An involuntary smile appeared as a childlike joy bubbled inside him.

But his adrenaline didn't last long. The jutsu had consumed a quarter of his chakra reserves, and he felt the weight of the effort begin to take over his body. Although he was still standing, a faint sense of fatigue spread through his muscles.

Determined to overcome his limitations, Rensu established a strict routine. He started his day with quick runs around the clearing, the effort warming his body and intensifying the flow of chakra.

The scroll explained the training for the fire nature transformation: Rensu had to burn a leaf with his chakra, a process similar to what Naruto used in his wind training, where he aimed to cut a leaf with wind chakra in his palm. While Naruto focused on generating cutting chakra, Rensu needed to generate enough heat to turn the leaf to ashes.

With this in mind, Rensu sat silently, the leaf gently resting in the palm of his hand. His focus was clear: to add the fire attribute to his chakra, exactly as the scroll instructed.

The process was exhausting; often, the leaf didn't even heat up. Frustration threatened to take over, but he repeated to himself: "Patience." His limited chakra reserves only allowed for training sessions of up to two hours at a time. Once he hit his limit, he took a strategic break: eating something light, meditating to recover, and then returning to training.

This cycle repeated three times a day, shaping the days into a sequence of sweat, exhaustion, and determination. Gradually, small victories began to appear. The heat started to pulse on the surface of the leaf, still weak but undeniable.

Each progress, no matter how small, was celebrated in silence. He might not be a genius like others, but he possessed something equally valuable: the ability to persist.

One ordinary morning, while preparing breakfast in his small kitchen, Rensu heard a knock at the door. He found it odd—visitors weren't part of his routine. Walking to the door, he opened it and found Akemi, his ex-fiancée, standing there. She looked uneasy, as if every moment of hesitation weighed heavier than the last.

Rensu said nothing.

Akemi, realizing he wouldn't offer any invitation, tried a weak smile and murmured:

— May I come in?

Rensu gestured vaguely, opening the door wider, but his expression remained cold. She stepped inside and began to take in her surroundings. Her gaze landed on the simple furniture, the impeccable organization of the apartment, and finally returned to him.1— You've always been like this, — she said softly, almost wistfully. — So neat, so meticulous.1Rensu crossed his arms, uninterested in keeping the conversation going. After a few moments of silence, he got straight to the point:1— What do you want?1Akemi took a deep breath as if summoning courage.

— I heard rumors about your last mission. They said you nearly died... that you came back injured. I got worried and wanted to see how you're doing.1He narrowed his eyes, assessing her words. The acid in his tone surfaced quickly:1— Why do you care?1Akemi seemed unsettled but didn't back down.1— We've known each other since the academy, Rensu. Despite everything, I still care about you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you.

Those words irritated him. They sounded hollow, hypocritical—a pathetic attempt to erase the past. Rensu stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and before Akemi could react, his hand closed around her neck. He shoved her against the wall with enough force to make her let out a muffled gasp.1— Enough. — His voice was low, laced with bitterness. — Fake concern... disgusts me.1Akemi's eyes widened as her hands instinctively reached up to try and pull his arm away, but his strength kept her pinned. She gasped, her face starting to turn red, her mouth opening in a desperate attempt to suck in air that wouldn't come. The unease in her eyes was replaced with raw panic.

— You betrayed me, Akemi. — He brought his face closer to hers, his tone almost a chilling whisper. — Threw everything away. I don't care if you live or die. We have nothing to do with each other anymore.1Her nails dug into his arms in a desperate attempt to free herself. Each gasp was weaker than the last, her eyes pleading for mercy. After what felt like an eternity, Rensu finally let go. Akemi dropped to her knees, coughing and gasping for air as her hands flew to her neck.1Rensu took a step back, looking at her with disdain.1— Get out. — He pointed to the door without breaking eye contact.

Akemi rose to her feet with difficulty, her breathing still ragged. She cast one last look at him, a mixture of pain and disbelief, but said nothing. Stumbling, she left the apartment without looking back. Rensu shut the door, taking a deep breath. He felt no regret, only a resolute coldness. The past would stay buried, along with any weakness he'd ever felt for her.

When he received the memories of the old Rensu, his first reaction was a desire for revenge. He imagined how sweet it would be to make that bitch pay, but soon realized it wasn't worth his time. True revenge would be success. Surviving was just the beginning; after that came power and comfort. He wasn't to blame if that woman showed up at his door, expecting to be met with smiles.

That bitch must think he was the same simp he used to be. The eager little dog longing for her affection.

Rensu looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. His body wasn't impressive at first glance. He had defined muscles, the result of daily activities and constant training, but nothing that stood out. His arms were more slender than strong, and his torso had an average build, without signs of great power. His black hair, a little messy, fell over his forehead lifelessly. His face, ordinary and lacking any distinctive features, didn't have the power to attract attention immediately.

— I look like a damn extra,— Rensu muttered to himself, staring at his reflection in the mirror with a look of disdain.

He shook his head, pushing the useless thought aside. Drama wouldn't get him anywhere. It was better to focus on what mattered.

With his new focus, Rensu threw himself into training. Since he started reviewing the three basic jutsus taught at the academy, he found himself fascinated. The most intriguing, however, was the Transformation Jutsu. By being able to manipulate his chakra so precisely and simply, he realized that, deep down, this wasn't just a jutsu, but a gateway to something more. In one moment of the anime, Yamato had mentioned the Yin-Yang Style as the foundation for non-elemental techniques. And the Transformation Jutsu fit perfectly into that category.

Perhaps because he came from a world where chakra didn't exist, even the simplest jutsu, of rank E, fascinated him and awakened in him the desire to understand how it worked.

He just hoped he wouldn't become as obsessed as Orochimaru in the pursuit of the secret of ninjutsu.

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The two months he had to prepare were almost over. Rensu had spent the last few days training obsessively, and the results were showing. He had mastered the first stage of the fire nature transformation in record time, but that wasn't enough.

That night, he went to the Scarlet Carp, a small bar in Konoha, drawn by an unexpected message from an old friend. Hozuki, his former teammate from their genin days, had suggested they relive the old times with a few drinks. The bar was almost empty, with a strong smell of aged wood and cigarette smoke. When Rensu entered, he saw Hozuki already seated at a table in the back, a relaxed smile on his face.

— I thought you weren't going to show up. — Hozuki raised his glass, indicating that he had already started.

— I needed a break. — Rensu sat down, accepting the drink his friend offered. — And you? What brought you back to the village? Is the street vendor business going badly by any chance?

— Nothing special. I heard things are getting tense. — Hozuki leaned forward, lowering his voice. — The war has started, you know?

Rensu paused, gripping the glass tightly in his hands.

— How long has it been?

— Five days. — Hozuki shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal. — I thought you knew.

— I've been busy lately. — Rensu's voice came out more tense than he intended.

Konoha had not yet mobilized its troops. The village's high command was focused on organizing logistics and devising detailed strategies before making the first move. Behind the scenes, however, Root had already sprung into action with its calculated precision. Poisons, conspiracies, and intrigues were skillfully spread, sowing discord between nations and provoking conflicts that would lighten Konoha's load.

With the enemies occupied fighting each other, Konoha would have fewer fronts to fight.

Hozuki watched his friend for a moment before changing the subject.

— Do you remember the missions we did back then? Akemi always complained about the weight of the backpacks.

Rensu tried not to react when he heard the name.

— We were just kids pretending to know something.

Remembering that Akemi, Rensu, and Hozuki were teammates back in their genin days.

— True. — Hozuki chuckled quietly, but there was something in his tone that didn't match the casualness. — You know... for a while, I thought I wanted to be in your place.

— In my place? — Rensu stared at him, confused.

— With Akemi. — Hozuki slowly twirled his glass, not looking at his friend. — But today, thinking about it, I guess I dodged a bullet.

Rensu felt the tightness in his chest grow, but remained silent. Hozuki watched him for a moment, then smiled, as if trying to ease the weight of his own words:

— Don't take it the wrong way. I'm just saying that sometimes, losing is disguised luck.

Rensu raised an eyebrow, a hint of irony forming at the corner of his lips.

— Is that why you gave up the ninja life? A one-sided love? — he teased. — You seem more pathetic than I do, Hozuki.

His friend laughed loudly, slapping the table.

— A toast to both of us, then, for being idiots.

Rensu laughed too, raising his glass as the two of them toasted, their laughter cutting through the heavy atmosphere for a moment. But Hozuki, deep down, couldn't hide his concern. After a long sip of his drink, he placed a small package on the table, pushing it toward Rensu.

— What's this? — Rensu asked, confused, taking the package and shaking it lightly.

Hozuki crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair with a crooked smile.

— Read the note, genius. And do it quietly.

Suspicious, Rensu opened the package, revealing two small pills and a folded piece of paper. He read the instructions carefully. The note explained that if administered correctly, the medication would create a disruption in the chakra pathways, making it impossible to use ninjutsu or fight effectively. The condition would be convincing enough to keep him out of the war, but there was a risk: the effects could be permanent.

Rensu looked up, meeting Hozuki's calm gaze.

— Are you crazy? — he murmured, handing the note back.

Hozuki simply shrugged, maintaining his carefree tone.

— I'm just giving you an out. A way to escape this madness.

— And risk never using chakra again? — Rensu shook his head, refusing. — You know I'd never do that.

Hozuki huffed and smiled sideways.

— I figured. But it doesn't hurt to try.

— Why this now? — Rensu asked, staring at his friend. — Since when have you been concerned about me?

Hozuki looked away, pretending to be casual.

— I don't know. Maybe because I've seen enough to know that this whole Shinobi thing just fills up cemeteries. And maybe, just maybe, because I'm not looking to come back here in a month to toast to an empty grave.

The silence that followed was heavy. Rensu glanced at the package once more before returning it.

— I appreciate it, Hozuki. Really. But you know that's not how I do things.

— Yeah, I know. — Hozuki smiled, but there was something dark behind the smile. — I just wanted you to know you have options.

Rensu nodded, acknowledging the gesture. Despite the teasing and the mocking tone, he knew the offer came from a genuine place.

In the following moments, Hozuki changed the subject, perhaps trying to lighten the weight of the previous conversation. With his usual casualness, he began recounting the adventures he had during his travels.

— You have no idea the things I've seen out there, Rensu. Every village has its own madness. — He smiled to the side, taking another sip of his drink. — But, man... The women from the Land of Tea... Ah, my friend, they do things with their mouths that would make any man lose his strength in his legs.

Rensu laughed, shaking his head.

— You're still a pervert.

— A pervert? No! — Hozuki retorted, raising his glass as if toasting to his own reputation. — I'm an explorer of human arts!

— Is that what you call it now?

Hozuki ignored the jab, leaning in closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

— But listen, if you survive this war madness, I'll personally take you to Sunagakure. The women there... their pussies aren't just hot because of the desert. They are fire.

— I'll make a note of that, — Rensu replied, laughing.

— Do that. Consider it a promise. Just don't die before you experience the best the world has to offer.

Between the jokes and exaggerations, Rensu understood that his friend, in his own twisted way, was trying to remind him that there were still reasons to keep living. He wouldn't make the same mistake as before, throwing himself into a suicidal mission just to escape his own pain.

Rensu would survive, and more than that, he would thrive. He wouldn't settle for mediocrity, nor would he let this new world crush him. Surrounding himself with luxury and pleasures would be just the beginning of a bigger plan.

If ethics had to be a sacrifice along the way, so be it. After all, no one reached the top by playing fair.

With that decision firmly in his chest, he raised his glass one last time, toasting to himself. Not to the past or the present, but to the future he refused to let slip away.