Early the next morning, Fenghuo got up before dawn and made breakfast for three. After finishing his own portion, he grabbed the remaining two and hurried next door to the Uchiha household.
"Obito! You up yet?!"
"Hehe, Fenghuo's here. Come in, dear."
A kindly old woman, slightly stooped with age, appeared at the doorway and greeted him with a warm smile.
This was Uchiha Obito's grandmother—the one who raised him after his parents passed away, as mentioned in the manga.
"Good morning, Grandma," Fenghuo greeted with a smile, handing her the breakfast in his hands.
"Oh my, thank you, Fenghuo. You're such a thoughtful boy."
She smiled fondly, clearly pleased by the gesture. The warmth in her expression reminded Fenghuo of his own grandmother from his previous life.
As he stepped inside, Fenghuo looked around and noticed the layout of Obito's home wasn't much different from his own—a modest, traditional Uchiha compound.
"Fenghuo, sit down a moment. I'll go wake Obito," the old woman said with a chuckle.
"No need, Grandma. Actually, I came to ask—do you happen to have any old training equipment? Like sandbags or weights for physical training?" Fenghuo asked directly.
The old woman tilted her head thoughtfully.
"Hmm… now that you mention it, Obito's father used to train like that when he was younger. He had trouble awakening his Sharingan for a long time. After he finally succeeded, he stopped using those things and left them in the backyard storehouse. If you don't mind digging through it, feel free."
She gestured to the small shed in the backyard. Though she called it a storehouse, it looked more like a glorified doghouse.
Fenghuo crawled halfway inside and spent a long time rummaging through dust and cobwebs before hauling out a mess of training props: leg weights, iron wristbands, ankle sandbags, old bandages, and more.
"You planning to train your taijutsu, Fenghuo?" the old woman asked from nearby. "Our families have always lived side by side, and our fates seem to run alike… That cursed Sharingan—it's never easy to awaken."
Fenghuo gave a lopsided smile. Naturally, he wouldn't tell her he had already awakened a one-tomoe Sharingan.
"Even without the Sharingan, a master of taijutsu can become just as formidable," he said lightly. "In the Fourth Shinobi World War… Might Guy nearly defeated Madara Uchiha using nothing but his Eight Gates Technique. That was even after Madara became the Ten-Tails Jinchūriki."
"Such dedication…" the old woman murmured, a little taken aback. "Just be careful, child. You're still growing. Don't overdo it."
"I understand. Thank you, Grandma."
After expressing his gratitude, Fenghuo hauled the dusty equipment home and began strapping it on.
One kilogram of weight per leg to strengthen his stride.
Half a kilogram per arm to build endurance and power in his punches.
The difference was immediately noticeable. His balance shifted, his footing felt heavier, and even forming hand seals became a labor.
"But this is just the beginning. I'll adapt!"
Unwilling to give up, Fenghuo carried the burden from morning until night, slowly acclimating.
Crash!
"Ow! Damn it, that hurts!"
He'd fallen from a tree again. Rubbing his sore backside, Fenghuo gritted his teeth.
Simple tree climbing, once easy, had become nearly impossible. The weights disrupted his chakra control, and sticking to surfaces had become a challenge. Water-walking? Out of the question.
"…Am I aiming too high?"
He had the Sharingan—shouldn't he focus on enhancing his ocular abilities? Relying on the Uchiha bloodline was the obvious path to power. But then he remembered the monsters of the Fourth Great Ninja War.
Did those eyes alone guarantee victory?
No.
His expression hardened.
If he was going to live in this world, he wouldn't coast through it. If he couldn't stand at the top, he would die climbing toward it!
From that day on, alongside chakra refinement and seal practice, Fenghuo paused his tree-walking and water-walking training to focus solely on physical conditioning.
Each day in the small courtyard, he pushed his limits—push-ups, sit-ups, squats, running drills. Sweat soaked into the dirt as he trained relentlessly.
But the cost soon became apparent.
Despite eating all his meals, Fenghuo's body grew leaner—thinner, even.
"Fenghuo, you're overdoing it!" Obito fretted when he visited. "You're skin and bones!"
"I'll get used to it," Fenghuo replied, calmly stirring vegetables in a hot pan—still wearing his weighted wristbands.
His arms looked thin, but sinewy muscle was beginning to emerge beneath the skin.
After lunch, Fenghuo sent Obito away—his chatter was endless—and resumed training.
A few days later, the weights felt almost natural. It was time to return to chakra control.
Climbing trees with the weights was tough, but little by little, he adapted. Then came water-walking—his chakra control becoming sharper, more precise.
Splish. Splish.
He walked across the pond in his yard. Each step sent ripples across the surface, reflecting his faint image below.
Now came the test.
Si → Wei → Shen → Hai → Wu → Yin.
"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"
A rush of heat surged from his chest to his throat. He exhaled deeply.
BOOM!
A basketball-sized fireball erupted from his mouth and struck an old tree stump.
CRACK!
The wood split with a sharp sound, blown apart by the impact.
Fenghuo's eyes widened.
The last time he tried this jutsu, it had fizzled out entirely. This time, it worked. Perfectly.
He could feel it—his body growing stronger, his chakra flowing with more confidence.
But then—
SPLASH!
"Gah!"
He fell face-first into the pond. In his moment of distraction, he'd lost chakra control on his soles.
"Still not quite there…"
Pulling himself out, soaked and dripping, Fenghuo changed clothes and took the next step: increasing the weight.
Leg weights doubled—from one kilogram to two.
Arm weights, too—from half a kilo to one.
The effect was immediate. His movements stiffened again, joints strained, and circulation slowed.
But he didn't stop.
Laps around the courtyard followed. His breath came ragged.
Ten minutes passed.
He collapsed. Not just from fatigue, but from gravity itself. The weights pinned him down.
"Why… does it feel like it's getting heavier…"
His vision blurred, the sky spun—and then, everything went black.