Karma's life became considerably busier after that.
Training in the morning.
Missions during the day.
More training in the evening.
And, occasionally, being dragged home by Mito nee-san when Hashirama-sensei forgot that a five-year-old technically needed to sleep.
Karma didn't complain.
Mostly.
His first missions were exactly what one would expect from a newly graduated shinobi.
D-rank missions.
Very unglamorous D-rank missions.
His first assignment was helping an elderly woman clean her garden.
Karma stared at the enormous pile of weeds.
"Seriously?"
The mission supervisor nodded.
"Seriously."
Karma sighed.
'I can learn advanced ninjutsu after seeing it once.'
'I can create multiple shadow clones.'
'I have a mysterious dojutsu that might eventually become completely broken.'
He looked at the garden.
'And I'm pulling weeds.'
Karma created three Shadow Clones.
"Get to work."
The clones immediately started working.
The supervisor stared.
"You're allowed to use clones?"
"Nobody said I wasn't."
The mission was finished in twenty minutes.
The woman was delighted.
"You children are so helpful!"
Karma smiled politely.
"Thank you."
As soon as they left, one of the clones disappeared.
Karma absorbed the memories.
'Worth it.'
The next few missions were similar.
Finding a missing cat.
Helping repair a damaged fence.
Delivering packages across the village.
Cleaning storage rooms.
Helping move supplies.
Catching chickens that had escaped from a farm.
Karma discovered that chickens were surprisingly fast.
He also discovered that chasing one through the village while trying not to damage anything was more difficult than it sounded.
At the end of the week, Karma sat on the roof of Hashirama's house, staring over Konoha.
He was tired.
Not exhausted.
Just tired.
There was a difference.
He had expected missions to be boring.
Instead, they were teaching him something.
People.
During training, his opponents were shinobi.
They expected danger.
They knew what they were doing.
D-rank missions were completely different.
The villagers weren't shinobi.
They didn't understand chakra.
They didn't understand why a five-year-old could move faster than most adults.
They simply saw Karma as a child helping them.
And Karma was beginning to understand what Hashirama meant whenever he talked about the village.
The village wasn't just shinobi.
It was these people.
The old woman with the garden.
The shopkeeper who needed a delivery.
The farmer chasing chickens.
The children running through the streets.
Karma smiled.
'So this is part of becoming Hokage.'
That thought made the missions a little less boring.
His training, however, was becoming much more interesting.
Hashirama continued developing his fundamentals.
Chakra control.
Taijutsu.
Ninjutsu.
Physical conditioning.
And, most importantly, learning how to combine everything.
Karma's swordsmanship was beginning to take shape as well.
Madara had started correcting his movements.
"Your stance."
Karma adjusted.
"Too much weight on your front foot."
Karma shifted.
"Your shoulders."
He relaxed them.
Madara nodded.
"Better."
Karma attacked.
Madara blocked.
Karma immediately changed his angle and attacked again.
Madara deflected it.
Karma stepped back.
'He's reading me before I move.'
That was the real lesson.
Swordsmanship wasn't simply about cutting faster.
It was about controlling distance.
Reading movement.
Forcing reactions.
Creating openings.
And taking advantage of them before the opponent could recover.
Karma was learning quickly.
But there was something he wanted to add.
Lightning.
Karma coated his blade in a thin layer of Lightning Release.
The chakra crackled around the edge.
Madara's eyes narrowed.
"Don't waste chakra."
"I'm not."
Karma moved.
His blade flashed.
Madara blocked.
The lightning traveled through the contact point.
Madara's arm twitched slightly.
Karma immediately followed with another strike.
Madara deflected it.
"Better."
Karma grinned.
"So it works."
"It works because you used it properly."
Madara looked at the blade.
"Don't just pour lightning into your sword."
Karma listened.
"Use it to enhance your movement."
Karma's eyes sharpened.
Madara continued.
"Your sword doesn't need to become stronger."
He tapped Karma's chest.
"You need to become faster."
Karma understood.
Lightning Release wasn't merely an offensive element.
It could improve acceleration.
Reaction speed.
Movement.
The speed of his strikes.
The transition between one attack and the next.
Karma began experimenting.
He moved.
Stopped.
Moved again.
Lightning chakra pulsed through his legs.
He accelerated.
His sword came forward.
Madara blocked.
Karma disappeared from the man's immediate line of sight and appeared at another angle.
Madara turned.
The wooden training sword stopped a few centimeters from his shoulder.
Madara looked at it.
Then at Karma.
"Again."
Karma smiled.
"Gladly."
The next several weeks became a cycle.
Missions.
Training.
Rest.
Repeat.
Karma's Lightning Release gradually became more natural.
He wasn't creating some legendary technique.
He wasn't throwing massive lightning bolts around the village.
He was doing something much more important.
Learning control.
A little lightning through his legs.
A little through his arms.
A thin coating around his blade.
Small bursts of acceleration.
Nothing spectacular.
But each movement became smoother.
More efficient.
More dangerous.
At the same time, Hashirama began introducing him to the other elemental natures.
Not advanced techniques.
Just the basics.
"Your Lightning Release is coming along well," Hashirama said one afternoon.
Karma nodded.
"I want to learn the others too."
Hashirama smiled.
"You have plenty of time."
He demonstrated a simple Earth Release technique.
The ground shifted slightly.
Nothing impressive.
Just a basic D-rank technique.
Karma watched.
He copied the hand seals.
Then performed it himself.
The earth moved.
Karma looked at it.
"Too much chakra."
Hashirama laughed.
"You're starting to sound like Madara."
Karma adjusted the chakra flow.
The second attempt was cleaner.
Next came Water Release.
A small amount of water gathered in Karma's palm.
Then Wind.
A tiny blade of compressed air formed between his fingers.
Fire came last.
A small flame appeared.
Karma stared at it.
"That's it?"
Hashirama laughed.
"It's a D-rank technique."
"I know."
"You were expecting a giant fireball?"
"Maybe."
"You're five."
"Exactly. I'm running behind."
Hashirama burst out laughing.
Karma continued practicing.
He wasn't trying to master every nature immediately.
That wasn't the point.
He wanted familiarity.
He wanted to understand how each element felt.
How chakra changed when transformed.
How much control each one demanded.
Lightning remained his favorite.
It suited him.
Fast.
Precise.
Sharp.
It fit naturally with the sword.
But the others were beginning to feel less foreign.
Earth felt heavy.
Water felt fluid.
Wind felt sharp and flexible.
Fire felt aggressive.
Karma found himself fascinated by all of them.
By the end of the month, his schedule had become almost routine.
D-rank mission in the morning.
Training with Hashirama.
Swordsmanship with Madara.
Elemental practice.
Then home.
One evening, Karma returned from another mission carrying a small package.
Mito looked up from the kitchen.
"Another mission?"
"Yes."
"What was it?"
"Helping a shopkeeper move boxes."
"And did you help?"
Karma looked offended.
"Of course."
Mito smiled.
"Good."
Karma put the package down.
Then dropped onto a chair.
"I'm tired."
Mito blinked.
"You admitted it."
"Don't tell anyone."
"I'll keep it a secret."
Karma rested his head against the table.
For a moment, the house was quiet.
This had become normal.
Coming home.
Having someone waiting.
Having food prepared.
Having people asking how his day went.
Karma looked around.
He had once thought becoming stronger was the most important thing in his life.
Now he was beginning to understand something else.
Being a shinobi wasn't just about power.
It was about having something worth protecting.
Karma smiled quietly.
'Good.'
'Then I'll protect all of it.'
From the doorway, Hashirama watched him.
He smiled.
The boy was changing.
Not just becoming stronger.
Becoming a shinobi.
And, perhaps without realizing it, becoming the kind of person Konoha would one day be willing to follow.