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Chapter 37 – Growing
🕑 Added 2025-06-27 06:10:39 +0000 UTCChapter 37 – Growing
through the morning air as steam curled gently from lacquered bowls set atop the wooden porch. Sunlight spilled over the tiles of the clinic roof, warming the paper walls and drying the dew that clung to the flowers Tsunade had half-forgotten in the corner planter box.
Hajime sat cross-legged at the low table outside the rear veranda, his shadow stretching longer than it had the week before.
He had grown, visibly, undeniably.
At just fifteen years old, he now stood over 180 centimeters tall, with a body beginning to take on a form rarely seen outside elite adult shinobi. His shoulders had broadened, chest deepened, and even his jawline sharpened ever so slightly. There was still a youthful smoothness to his face, but it was being swallowed slowly by the angular strength of maturity.
Shizune stepped out with a tray, blinking at the sight of him. “You got taller again,” she said, half accusingly.
“Just a little,” Hajime replied with a polite nod, taking the cup of tea she offered.
“That’s what you said last week. You’re going to hit your head on doorframes at this rate.”
Tonton, sitting dutifully at her feet, gave a soft oink as if in agreement.
Tsunade arrived a few minutes later, sake in hand, looking only half-awake but already watching Hajime with that keen, clinical gaze she never quite turned off. She sat without a word, took a sip, then narrowed her eyes.
“What’s with the bricks?”
Hajime, already halfway through his rice, calmly unwrapped a folded cloth and revealed a few pale, rough-edged bars. They looked vaguely edible, but had a strange texture, like compressed chalk or smoothed coral. He broke one in half with a soft crack, then casually took a bite.
“…That’s not food,” Tsunade said flatly.
“It is,” Hajime replied between chews. “Just not for most people.”
Shizune leaned over his shoulder. “Wait. Is that… bone?”
“Ground, purified, compressed,” Hajime confirmed. “Mostly fish bones, some bovine. Added sea salt for flavor.”
Tsunade stared at him, blinking slowly. “You're eating powdered bone.”
“I’m growing,” he said simply, sipping his tea as if that explained everything.
There was a pause.
Tsunade leaned back and exhaled through her nose. “You’re not human, are you?”
He chuckled softly. “Not entirely.”
The moment passed with a ripple of bemused silence, but the weight of her words stayed in the air. She didn’t mean it literally. Not yet. But she was starting to feel it, he wasn’t changing like a normal boy. He was becoming something else, and they all sensed it.
The rest of breakfast passed with idle talk, Shizune complaining about lazy suppliers, Tsunade grumbling about Her Creditor are coming again, and Tonton trying to sneak dried sardines from Hajime’s tray. But beneath it all, a quiet awareness hummed between them. Hajime had become a presence, not just another helper at the clinic, but a stabilizing core.
And he was still changing.
The clinic bustled by midday, as usual. An elderly couple arrived with a skin rash. A courier shinobi stumbled in with a dislocated shoulder. A merchant family came for vaccinations. Hajime moved through it all like water in motion, precise, quiet, but effective.
He used no flash, no grand displays. Just skill.
A simple palm over a child’s fevered brow, and the boy’s temperature dropped.
A pulse of chakra into a twisted ligament, and it realigned with only a wince.
He saved energy. But more than that, he was practicing control.
Sometimes, as he worked, Tsunade would pause just outside the room and watch him. Not as a teacher watching a student. But as a peer watching something… evolving.
He never noticed when she lingered too long.
But Shizune did.
That afternoon, a wide-hipped traveling merchant shuffled into the clinic with a bruised leg and a swollen ankle. He wore silk robes over a leather vest and spoke with the loose confidence of a man used to being paid to talk.
“Slipped on a rice sack. Damn thing burst. My porters are morons,” he grumbled while Hajime examined the swelling.
“Ligaments are fine. Minor contusion,” Hajime said quietly, wrapping a cold chakra salve along the bone.
“Fast hands, good bedside voice. You’d make a killing in Konoha right now, kid.”
Hajime glanced up. “Why’s that?”
“Hah! You haven’t heard? Chūnin Exam finals are in a week!” The man puffed his chest. “I’m heading there myself. Got a stall near the outer ring, gonna sell ninja headbands and dumb dolls to starry-eyed genin. Mark my words, it's going to be chaos. But gold? Plenty of it.”
Hajime finished the wrap and gave the man a single pat on the ankle. “Try not to slip again.”
The merchant left humming, unaware that he’d dropped a seed of consequence into Hajime’s mind.
One week…
The finals…
The Konoha Crush.
He stood there, bandages still in hand, as the weight of the timeline clicked into place.
Everything he remembered from the anime, the sound invasion, Gaara’s rampage, Orochimaru’s deception, it all happened during the final matches of the Chūnin Exams.
And that was only seven days away.
He stepped into the back room a few minutes later, washed his hands in silence, then stared into the mirror.
His reflection wasn’t the same boy who had landed in this world.
His neck was thicker. His arms were heavier. His torso had grown into something no shinobi of his age should possess. The slight flex of his back muscles was enough to strain the robe at his shoulder blades. Even his ribs, when he pressed lightly beneath his pectorals, were changing, harder, denser. Forming faint latticework across the chest like plates in motion.
No one had noticed yet.
Not the real extent.
But they would.
Soon.
Evening settled over Tanzaku Quarters, and the light softened to orange and gold. Outside the clinic, Tsunade sat cross-legged beneath the porch lantern with a cup of sake and a paper fan.
Hajime joined her quietly, carrying a tray with tea and leftover rice cakes.
Tonton curled at his feet.
Shizune emerged later, hair unbound for once, yawning as she sat beside them. There were no patients left. The night was quiet.
They shared a slow meal in companionable silence.
Tsunade watched him between sips. Her gaze didn’t hold suspicion, just a deepening curiosity.
“You really aren’t human, are you?” she said again, this time more softly, more like a joke wrapped in real concern.
Hajime took a bite of rice cake and replied with a faint smile. “Working on it.”
Tsunade raised her brow at that, but didn’t press.
Shizune just muttered, “You’re definitely weird,” before leaning back against the porch post.
Hajime stared at the sky as the stars blinked into view.
Seven days, then in a few days after that.
He would Go to Konoha, With Tsunade
As his student.
Though he didn't have the same urgency as before.
End of Chapter 37 – Growing
