Naruto drove his fist into the splintered training post behind the academy one more time. The wood groaned and finally cracked down the middle. He stepped back, breathing hard, knuckles bleeding through old tape. He wanted to be Hokage. He needed someone to see it. He walked off the soreness inside the small ramen shop and set his bowl down too hard. His chopsticks were chewed soft at the ends. The cloth band on his wrist had gone gray from sweat and grit. He had punched the same posts for months. Nothing moved anymore. His strength had a wall, and the wall was him. He climbed up to the carved stone faces and sat under their shadow. He stared at them until his eyes burned. Solo drills had nothing left to teach him. To stand beside those faces, he needed a real fight. He needed something that hit back. Before sundown he walked to the registration desk and signed the curse fighter trial sheet. They handed him a slip with a match time and a creature class. A small, mean imp. Tomorrow it would come at him with teeth. Tomorrow, finally, he would not be training alone.