AN:
(Nervous laughter) it's been how long? A full year?!😅 um…. I wanna say sorry, but it would definitely not suffice.
But alas, I'm here. Never really left, but I am, in fact, still alive. Grad school is soul draining. But! The good news is that I'm exactly half way through my degree! I survived this latest semester and even with better grades then the semester before which totally kicked my ass. Y'all, the way I cried when I saw I passed had my mom panicking 😂 I even got a job!
All this to say that I've not quite got the AO3 curse but shuts been busy anyway. Please forgive me? Hopefully the next chapters come easier and with less effort cuz this was a doozy ngl.
Y'all know the drill by now! There are officially 8 parts to this series, so if you enjoy reading this soul's journey through the cycle of reincarnation across the multiverse, maybe check them out? Though, all fics can be read independently too!
As always, thank you guys for showing your love for my work, and for being so patient with me. I hope yall enjoy and leave your thoughts down below! Hearing from you guys is my favorite part.
Discord! I have started releasing chapter previews there, and it's chill. Some of you lovely readers even help me brainstorm!
https://discord.gg/XhqUDAnbsH
Japanese Dictionary
Uchiwa — Traditional Japanese paper fan; in Naruto, the Uchiha clan crest resembles one.
Kata — Structured forms or movement patterns used in martial arts training.
Saikeirei — The deepest and most formal Japanese bow, typically around a 45–70 degree angle, showing extreme respect, apology, or submission.
Keirei — A formal respectful bow, typically around a 30-degree angle, used in professional or respectful social situations.
Daimyō — Feudal Japanese lord.
Chabudai — Traditional short-legged Japanese table.
Chasen — Bamboo tea whisk used in Japanese tea ceremonies.
Furo — Portable brazier/hearth used in tea ceremonies to heat water.
Kama — Iron kettle used during tea ceremonies.
Taishō — Commander/captain title.
XXXXXXXXXX
"Incoming!" I call, perking up from where I had been resting my head on Oro-sensei's shoulder, the snake having found a long piece of cloth and strapped me to his back like an African mother, the fabric snug and warm against my sides. I couldn't decide if I thought it was sweet or embarrassing, but it was comfy. "Four-person squad! Another patrol?"
"Most likely. We are close to the camp now," Oro-sensei agrees, his voice low and steady, vibrating through his back and into me. "Shikayori-san, take your squad to meet them."
The older Nara man I had pegged as an elite during the skirmish darts forward with a grunt, Inori Yamanaka, an Akimichi man, and Akane-obachan falling into step with him, their movements sharp and practiced as they quickly pull away from the rest of the battalion. I keep an eye on their chakra as they head to meet the patrol, their signatures flickering steadily through my senses.
I squirm out of the damn baby wrap and drop to my feet, boots crunching lightly against the ground. Orochimaru sends me a glare, golden eyes narrowing, but merely unties the wrap and seals it away in a scroll. I carefully begin to cycle my chakra, only a moment passing before Kakashi is at my side, his hand slipping into mine, Ryōsuke-Ojiisama and Tsunade shunshining to flank the sannin, their lowered voices muffled by the rushing wind.
"Are you ready?" Kakashi asks, his grip tightening around my fingers.
Smirking, I unseal my uchiwa fan with a flick of chakra. "Hn. Remember, you're the son of the Hokage and I'm the Uchiha princess. We need to show what we're made of if we want to boost our clan reputations and troop morale."
"Mah, do we really have that much influence?" Kakashi asks, glancing ahead.
I eye Kakashi sharply. "Until we gain a reputation for ourselves, we'll be considered extensions of our parents and clans. The stronger we are, the stronger our parents will be perceived."
"And that reassures the troops," Kakashi connects, thoughtful. "And disconcerts the enemy."
"Hn," I acknowledge. "Potentially."
After passing the patrol and a bit of running, we reach the gate of the war camp, tall and reinforced, where Akari-obachan's squad rejoins us and Oro-sensei passes his assignment scroll for the battalion to the guard for verification. Soon we're ushered into the camp.
I tilt my head, listening with interest. The camp is surprisingly lively—civilian merchants calling out their wares, voices overlapping in a steady hum, shinobi bustling about with purpose, squads chatting and sitting with one another, the air thick with movement and restless energy.
As soon as Orochimaru and Tsunade are recognized, cheers go up around the crowd, relief thick and needy brushing my senses like a wave, and it puts an extra bounce in my step that I can't manage to stifle.
"I didn't realize how much influence certain shinobi have," Kakashi murmurs, his hand tightening on mine. "I guess you were right to prepare me ahead of time."
"Hn," I agree, my skin prickling as attention falls on us from all directions.
"Ojiisama seems to be a really popular figure too," my friend notes, tilting his head toward a squad calling out to my grandfather cheerfully, receiving a smirk and playful salute from him in return. There is also a group of Uchiha to my left who are stone-faced, but their chakra is buzzing with a certain kind of excitement tinged with bloodlust, sharp and electric.
Tsunade appears suddenly, snatching Kakashi and me up to sit in the crook of either arm with effortless strength. Kakashi squirms angrily, bickering with the amused Senju, but I don't bother. Resigned to my fate, I simply flick my Sharingan on under the fox mask, the seals on the inside placing a permanent genjutsu over the eye holes to hide my eyes, taking in the area from my new height.
Under the numerous eyes on me, a ridiculous amount of which are from my clan, I lazily unseal my uchiwa fan, using the heir symbol to hide my sneer. I can feel them watching me with unsettling intensity, their gazes heavy.
"I feel like a piece of meat," I mutter, disturbed.
Ojiisama's laugh rings out behind me, warm and amused, and I turn, letting him tug me free of Tsunade, who has flipped Kakashi upside down by his ankle for his sass and is shaking him like he owes her money. "They will try to curry favor with you while you're here. But don't forget, our clan only respects power. Until you secure their loyalty fully, if you falter, or show any sign of being an unworthy heir—"
"They'll be out for blood," I finish, my lip curling in disgust. "So, we have a clan of backstabbers?"
Ojiisama pinches my cheek in what might be his first ever reprimand of me. "Don't be foolish, child. Our clan loves harder than any other. Once you have an Uchiha's affection, they are willing to sacrifice any and everything for you. But getting that affection is the hard part, and merely being a powerful heir isn't enough, just the bare minimum."
I grind my teeth before forcibly relaxing, leaving only a blank look on my face. It was harder than I'd like to admit to regulate my emotions in this child body. "Right."
"Akari-chan, you and Kakashi-chan will stay in my tent," Ojiisama decides, snatching Kakashi away from a cackling Tsunade, the boy having started trying to stab the sannin with a kunai in an effort to get away.
"Wha—" Tsunade sputters. "Why not let them stay with me?!"
"They are better off with me if an enemy attacks," my grandfather points out. Tsunade is strong, but her hemophobia and her fighting style didn't lend well to defending two small humans, what with her tendency to explode the area. "And Orochimaru-taishō will be too busy to have them biting at his ankles."
"Not to mention, they shouldn't be around all your alcohol, you drunkard," Orochimaru purrs, appearing next to us like a shadow given form.
"Oi!" The Slug Princess growls, swinging at her teammate, who merely sidesteps elegantly.
"Our tents are this way," Orochimaru states, leading the way with a smooth turn. Apparently, war housing is roughly segregated based on rank and team. For example, chūnin teams reside around other chūnin teams they are often deployed with, and medics without permanent team appointments are near the center of camp where the field hospital is. Elite jōnin, due to their scarcity, are scattered about more than other groups, but they tend to hold high positions in camp and it isn't uncommon for them to be near one another for ease of communication.
It seems like Orochimaru, Tsunade, and my grandfather are staying together as a precaution for Kakashi and me and to maintain our training among them. Ojiisama is their temporary teammate for this deployment, with Jiraiya keeping an eye on the elders on the Suna front while he tries to convince the desert shinobi to ally with us.
Fucking good luck to him, since Suna is still salty as fuck because Sakumo, our new Kage, kicked their asses in the Second Shinobi War.
"Alright, you unripened fleshies," Orochimaru demands the second Kakashi and I have unsealed our packs and bedrolls. "Here are the rules. Break them and I'll break your bones."
"Hypocrite!" Tsunade yells, catching him in a chokehold. "You were bitching at me when the hime broke her own hand, but now you're threatening these barely walking sprouts?!"
"Barely walking? I'm a genin!" Kakashi grumbles incredulously.
"They're my students! I'll break them if I want to!"
"I'm not sure either of them actually knows how old we are. They graduated at six years old, so you'd think they'd remember what being that age was like, but clearly not. And I doubt they've been trusted around kids since then," I say with a sigh.
"Brats," my grandfather says with a sigh, lighting his pipe, smoke curling lazily upward, and I'm fairly certain he didn't mean Kakashi and me. "Listen up, children. You are not to walk around the camp without one of us or an assigned escort. Your training will be split between us and occasionally others like Akane-chan. I know Maito Dai mentioned wanting to help with your taijutsu—," I wince at the revelation, already feeling the muscle pain, even as the sannin behind us begin to wrestle on the floor, sandals scraping against canvas and dirt, my grandfather completely ignoring them. "—In case of an attack on camp, you are not to engage unless you have no choice and it's the only way to defend yourself. Instead, you are to do your best to hide and come find one of us. Be sure to use a summons to get a message to us. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Ojiisama," Kakashi and I parrot back to the elder.
"Good. Come, children. Let's go explore the camp," Ryōsuke-Ojiisama states, neatly stepping over the grappling sannin, who thankfully continue to brawl without chakra.
Kakashi and I shrug and follow him out, slipping back into the noise and movement of the camp.
XXXXXXXXXX
We don't make it far before they find us, which is hardly surprising considering that Uchiha rarely miss anything. But I'll admit it's perhaps the most subtle ambush I've ever seen.
They peel away from various congregated groups in ones and twos, their movements controlled and unhurried in a way that feels like big cats on the prowl. Under the pretense of coincidence, they slide into our path, red-and-white fans marking them plainly while their chakra brushes against my senses in swirls of curious-malice-delight.
Each signature carries something distinctly evaluative, sharp and grating on skin like the tongue of a feline testing if something is worth the effort of taking a bite.
The factional divide is nearly visible in the way they position themselves. That old bastard Osamu isn't here, but his influence runs deep.
Ojiisama very deliberately doesn't step forward when they approach, doesn't speak, doesn't so much as shift his stance from where he lingers just behind and to my right, pipe in hand, expression calm and almost bored—but his chakra presence settles over the space regardless, heavy and absolute, the kind of authority that doesn't need to assert itself to be understood. Pay your respects to our heir, it says, or else.
And these clan mates of mine definitely recognize the unspoken message, judging by the way their chakra tightens just slightly, in the carefulness of their movements, and—most tellingly—what the one who finally steps forward does.
"Akari-sama," the man greets first, offering a saikeirei bow of surprising depth to me. Then he does something that leaves me mentally reeling; he offers me Meiken; mid-bow, he fists one hand over his heart and briefly shuts his eyes.
Meiken is a very, very old Uchiha custom that is never spoken of outside the clan. It roughly translates to "offering of one's life," or "life dedication." For one of my clan, to shut one's own eyes is to hide our greatest weapon. So this salute is a sign of great trust, but more than that, a show of deep loyalty that says should the one receiving the Meiken choose to take the opportunity to attack, the one giving it would accept death willingly, similar to how samurai would offer the hilt of their swords to their daimyō. Essentially, this shinobi is placing his life or death at my will and whim. The whole thing has my breath hitching and my eyes widening behind painted porcelain.
When he straightens, eyes opening and gaze shifting to my companions, this time he bows only at keirei. "Hatake-sama. Ryōsuke-sama."
Ojiisama's chakra pulses with a fierce sense of approval, but I focus instead on relaxing my posture and memorizing the new chakra signatures around me.
"I am Uchiha Kagetsu," the man states, tone measured and polite, a flicker of warmth hidden in his chakra. "We were not informed you would be joining us on the front lines."
I tilt my head slightly, letting my gaze rest on him for a moment longer than strictly polite, my fan held over my mouth. I take in the steadiness of his stance and the controlled rhythm of his breathing.
"Last-minute decision," I reply, my tone light enough to pass as casual, though we both know it is anything but.
Kagetsu accepts the answer with a small inclination of his head, but his mouth quirks just barely at the edge in genuine amusement, the flicker of fondness pulsing just a bit brighter.
For some reason, this shinobi is already on my side, at least for the time being.
Behind him, another man remains half a step back, his presence immobile in a way that feels more cautious than anything else. When my head turns his way, he speaks with no pretense, only quiet firmness.
"Uchiha Raizen," he says simply, the bare minimum introduction, his voice low and gruff before he falls silent again, but his bow is just as low as Kagetsu's, and he too performs Meiken, even if his eyes shut barely longer than a blink. The two men have chakra markers similar enough to indicate a relatively close familial bond, a blood connection somewhere between brothers and cousins, something I mentally perceive as a sort of identical aftertaste or middle scent note to their signatures.
Then, a kunoichi steps forward and I flicker my Sharingan beneath my mask, hand tightening on the ornate metal in my hand.
Her smile is warm, her posture graceful, her person incredibly soft and sweet for one of my clan mates, but chakra doesn't lie. I can feel it—cold, deliberate, and sharpened beneath the surface. Pure malice and condescension, her arrogance so thick in the air it makes me want to sneeze.
"I am Uchiha Reika," she says, no bow in sight, her tone smooth and pleasant. "It is an honor to finally meet you, Akari-chan."
Her gaze flicks, briefly but deliberately, toward Ojiisama.
I smile. The inner clan politics is starting to look like it might be some fun after all.
Uchiha Reika has the same nasty chakra stank as Osamu, the elder who had picked a fight with Ojiisama and my parents at my debut to the clan and the one who had challenged my right to be heir, forcing me to compete for my own birthright. She is probably his daughter or niece, judging by her chakra markers. "We've heard quite a bit about you."
Of course you have.
"Hn," I hum, offering nothing more.
Kakashi shifts slightly at my side, hand tightening on mine, and in a creepy synchronized move I hope I'll never have the misfortune of being on the receiving end of ever again, every dark eye moves to stare at our point of contact.
Reika smiles, painted lips curling into something too sinister to be called joy. "I see your friendship with the honorable son of our Kage was not exaggerated. I'm glad. When you marry out, you will bring our clan much honor and benefit."
I stare, parsing through that for a moment, even as Ojiisama's chakra spikes with killing intent for a fraction of a second, several nearby shinobi coming to attention, heads swiveling toward our little group, and a few on-duty ANBU stopping their camp patrol and quickly taking up positions nearby in case things escalate.
This bitch just insinuated that not only was I going to lose the challenge by her nephew or child, or however she's related to my opponent, when I turned seven, but that when the clan heir was changed, most likely resulting in a full regime change of the clan, I would be sold off to the Hatake clan in order for my existence to actually be honorable and useful.
Uchiha rarely, if ever, were allowed to marry out of the clan, and typically those that did were not ones with our clan dōjutsu. This was because the clan didn't want any Sharingan being born outside our clan, so for her to suggest I marry out was basically her way of saying I was not only a waste of an heiress but defective enough that they didn't want me contaminating the clan by having children with another Uchiha and passing my mutant peepers on.
Admittedly, part of me was kind of impressed by how many insulting unspoken things she'd managed to shove into such a small amount of words, but the rest of me was just really, really annoyed.
When Kakashi at my side doesn't quite manage to disguise his startled jerk, it only makes her smile wider, which is when I go from annoyed to genuinely pissed off.
"Reika, you dare—" Kagetsu starts furiously, taking a step forward, a shocked and outraged Raizen frozen at his flank.
"Oh my! What has you so riled, Kagetsu-san, Ryōsuke-sama? I meant no harm or disrespect to our delicate little heiress!" Reika titters, falsely apologetic even as she calls me weak and in need of the older men's protection.
Decided, I pat Kakashi's arm, taking the opportunity to wrap chakra threads around him protectively as I push him toward my grandfather and seal my fan away. "You inherited Uchiha Osamu's arrogance. Did you think me too young to recognize your audacity or that I would be too timid to confront it?"
Reika's smile freezes stiffly. "I—pardon me?"
"No, I don't think I will," I reply. "If you insist on talking nonsense to play mind games with a toddler, I'd prefer it if you stopped speaking."
Raizen is the first to react, letting out a choked burst of startled laughter. Kagetsu is next, a wicked smirk on his face that he doesn't even bother trying to hide.
Reika swallows harshly, struggling to hide her rage beneath a flat smile, her pretty face twisting. "Akari-chan, it's disrespectful to talk to your elders like that."
I glare coldly at her, wondering if I could get away with ripping her jaw off, Tsunade style, but I figure dealing with the aftermath would be a lot of work. Instead, I simply let my killing intent fall on her like a boulder off a cliff.
Instantly, several things happen at once. Reika crumples to the floor with a choked scream. Kagetsu and Raizen appear on either side of me, crouched defensively to guard me, but with their backs carefully not exposed to me. Ojiisama flashes into place at my back, Kakashi pressed between us, still wrapped in my chakra threads, though a few have snapped from the quick movement. And just beyond them, several ANBU have descended on us, weapons drawn and armed.
Oops.
I have been practicing at directing my killing intent, but it still wasn't perfect. Reika, my intended target, is struggling to breathe, writhing on the floor like the snake she is, which had been my intent, but clearly those around me had managed to feel the bloodlust to some extent. Consequently, I'd accidentally spooked the patrols, forcing my allies to jump to my defense. A shaky hand presses to my shoulder and I grasp it, Kakashi nudging me back to my senses as I realize I have been a bit impulsive in my ire.
"The use of killing intent inside camp is to be restricted," a horse-masked ANBU instructs after a long, tense moment, his chakra quivering with something between awe and downright horror, Reika is still twitching at my feet, her long, dark strands spilling like ink across the earth. After all, there are few shinobi who can force another to their knees using only K.I., so it is a rare sight to see someone put down like this.
"…Understood. My apologies for the disruption," Ojiisama responds carefully.
I furrow my brow. That almost sounded like Ojiisama was shielding me. Is killing intent not something the average shinobi is able to pinpoint the exact origin of so easily? Is my grandfather attempting to make the ANBU think it was him releasing it, or is that just a coincidence of his phrasing?
ANBU Captain Horse shifts, tightening his hold on his raised tantō, seeming to tense further despite Ojiisama's attempt to diffuse the situation, and Kagetsu and Raizen next to me shift on the balls of their feet accordingly, the chakra under their skin getting dangerously close to igniting their Sharingan.
"…Physical altercations between shinobi are also prohibited."
"Technically, this isn't a physical altercation," my Ojiisama rumbles mildly. "Just a minor… clan matter. However, I suppose we can find another way to discipline my unruly kin."
Internally praising the Uchiha elder's subtle reminder of Konoha laws that prevented outsiders from interfering in inner clan issues, I reel in my killing intent with reluctance, feeling it wrestle me much like a toddler trying to escape wearing pants. I step back from where I'd been standing over Reika and gently pat Kagetsu and Raizen on the arms, silently telling them to ease up.
Both men stand and step back a few feet with nods of acknowledgement, smugness radiating off them. Reika wheezes, finally staggering to her feet frantically and nearly tripping on herself in her attempt to get away from me. I cross my arms, doing my best to look down at her from the height of her knee, pressing back against a panting Kakashi, wrapping him in positive intent as fast as possible.
There is a long pause and a pointed look from Ojiisama before the ANBU flash away, though I sense Captain Horse making hand signs out of sight and a few of his team stay nearby as a precaution.
Ojiisama snorts, breaking the silence by vanishing his kunai for his pipe again as he glances at Reika, her glossy braid now dirt-covered and her clothes disheveled. "Pathetic."
Reika bristles, her face turning a blotchy red, rising from the defensive crouch she's fallen into, but another Uchiha appears before she can say any more, grabbing her arm tightly. "Enough, Reika. Don't embarrass yourself further. I apologize for her, Akari-hime. I am Uchiha Masato."
I narrow my eyes dangerously at him beneath my mask and he must feel it by the way he flinches and hastily bows at a polite keirei, but no saikeirei or Meiken in sight.
Out of all the people I've met today, Masato is the hardest to read. He seems close to Reika in a way that suggests he's part of Osamu's faction, but his chakra also suggests he's annoyed by her. I'd consider him neutral, but he is also freaked out by my display, now viewing me with a flattering level of wariness and just a hint of something that might be excitement.
"Your chakra control must be exceptional," Masato says, tone smooth and almost coaxing, as if the observation had simply occurred to him. "To have earned Tsunade-sama's attention so young."
The compliment is genuine, but there is sharp calculation behind his glittering eyes.
"Hn. It's adequate."
Masato's lips curve faintly. "Only adequate?" he presses lightly. "That's quite modest."
I let my fan sway back and forth measuredly. "Mah, why don't you just ask me what you really want to know already instead of wasting my time?"
Masato purses his lips momentarily but is unable to keep the question from slipping out a fraction too quickly to be casual. "Have you really already awakened it?"
I let a faint smile curl behind my fan. "Would it matter if I hadn't?"
Masato answers, but not before his gaze flicks briefly toward Reika.
"No," he says, a poor lie that has Ojiisama scoffing, making the younger Uchiha around us twitch.
Of course it fucking mattered.
This clan of mine could never accept a clan leader without a Sharingan. It didn't matter that I wasn't even old enough to join the academy or that most Uchiha didn't get their Sharingan until they were genin. Due to the current political climate of my clan, I had to be beyond reproach in every matter.
No normal child would have been able to handle the stress. It made a cold spike of fury pierce my chest as I thought of what my future baby brother must have gone through while under so much pressure as heir.
"They'll be expecting a demonstration," Kagetsu says after a moment, his tone quieter now and directed toward me, and I clock the way he separates Raizen and himself from Reika and Masato. His gaze flicks briefly toward Ojiisama—not deferring, but acknowledging—before returning to me.
Of course they will.
I tap the edge of my fan lightly against my palm before flicking my gaze toward my opponents. With a flourish, I seal away my fan into my thigh holder and lift my mask, quickly flashing silver Sharingan with three tomoe each at them all before letting it flash to my Mangekyō for the briefest moment, the seven oscillating crescent moons blazing intricately before I hide it beneath the painted porcelain kitsune mask once more, cutting the chakra flow before it can strain me.
The stunned silence left behind is thick. Reika blanches visibly, whereas Masato tilts his head, something calculating yet eager emanating off him that I can't quite decipher. Raizen and Kagetsu, however, exude something smug and borderline gleeful.
"I have no need to prove anything to you," I state flatly, the curl of anger still vibrating in my chest. "But as my clan mates, I will appease you. However, this will be the only time I bother. Since none of you seem to have been among those at the clan meeting when I was introduced to the clan, I will repeat my message for you. As long as I remain the heir, you will know your place."
A bark of laughter breaks the suffocating silence and to my surprise, it comes from Masato. "Welcome to the front lines, Akari-hime."
Stepping back just enough to reopen the space around us, his eyes burn into me. "We look forward to seeing what kind of heir you'll be."
Not whether. What kind.
I hum softly, making a note to keep an eye on that one, as I turn away, ending the interaction without another word to them. I squeeze Kakashi's hand in mine, his aura vibrating with something wickedly excited and admiring as I lead him onward, my grandfather puffing along behind us.
For now, I had firmly cemented myself among the Uchiha stationed at this camp. None would outwardly disrespect me again, not even subtly as Reika had tried, not after the show I just put on. But that didn't mean they wouldn't find other ways to undermine me.
It is no matter, though. I would do as Ryōsuke-Ojiisama had told me. I'd face every challenge and earn their loyalty. Let them do their worst.
I fucking dare them.
XXXXXXXXXX
The camp training grounds sit just beyond the main cluster of tents, covered in one-way privacy and sound-muffling seals to avoid raising the camp's alarm system, the earth worn flat by the remnants of past techniques—fractured stone, shallow craters, and the faint lingering residue of chakra embedded deep into the soil. It's quieter here, though not silent, the distant sounds of the camp and similar nearby training fields bleeding through in softened echoes, steel striking steel, voices rising and falling, the rhythm of a war camp that never truly rests.
Even though the sannin had joined us for dinner, Orochimaru had been pulled away almost immediately, leaving the two of us to the attention of Tsunade and Ojiisama. Which, considering the way Tsunade is already rolling her shoulders in preparation and the way Ojiisama has begun reclining against a tree and puffing his pipe, somehow feels ominous.
With a shared glance of trepidation, Kakashi and I step into the clearing together, settling naturally into practiced stances.
Tsunade watches the adjustment with a sharp glint of interest and I instantly get a foreboding premonition and decide to seal my mask away, leaving cloudy, sightless grey eyes on display.
"Good," she purrs, pushing off a broken post with an easy stretch. "At least neither of you is stupid enough to try and fight me alone."
Her gaze flicks between us, measuring and weighing before the Slug Princess begins to circle us in an easy, slow gait while we remain still and alert.
"You're both smaller than anyone you're going to face out there," she continues, tone blunt but not unkind, just matter-of-fact. "You don't have the reach, you don't have the mass, and you sure as hell don't have the luxury of trading blows."
Tsunade pauses, raising her hand, slim but not particularly dainty, calloused but well-maintained. She has a doctor's hands, and with fingers spread wide, she grabs my whole head with one, demonstrating the sheer size difference of an adult, and I wince at the mental image of getting my head popped like a grape. Kakashi gets the same message judging by his twitch.
Tsunade adds, almost lazily, "So if I see either of you trying to win with strength, I'm going to knock you flat."
My best friend and I share another look before we shift to face her, muscles coiling in preparation.
Tsunade grins. "Let's start with taijutsu. Both of you, come at me like you're trying to kill me. It might allow you to land a hit."
Damn, that's basically the same thing Oro-sensei always says before we spar. Just how the hell did the Sandaime torture his students?
We raise our hands with her in the seal of confrontation, and then she's on us like a natural disaster.
She closes the distance in an instant, her first strike a punch aimed straight through Kakashi's guard, a direct, forceful blow meant to smash his face in, and it has me mentally thanking past-me for knowing to put away my mask in the presence of her fists of doom. Kakashi meets her punch head-on, his body snapping into motion as he intercepts, redirecting rather than blocking outright so he doesn't get his arm blown off.
The Hatake style taijutsu is based around movements that are sharp and efficient but supplemented by sudden explosive strength and feral unpredictability. Even without lightning, white chakra, or the canine summons it's meant to accompany, it carries that same philosophy.
I don't follow him in, though. I have a different role when we dance.
While Kakashi engages Tsunade's center, I slip to her flank, my movements lighter, continuous, my weight never settling fully as I circle. Where Kakashi tries to break her rhythm, I attempt to slip through it. Realistically, neither of us was good enough to make a proper weak point in her defense big enough to take advantage of. So instead, we would play off one another and harass her defenses until we could pry one open wide enough for one of us to take advantage of it.
The problem is that Tsunade adapts immediately.
Her attention splits without hesitation, one leg deflecting Kakashi's follow-up strike aimed for her knee while her body turns just enough to catch mine aimed at her side, her movements economical despite the sheer power behind them.
Tsunade grins as she spins, using her grip on me to toss me at Kakashi, who uses the momentum of our collision to flip back out of reach before setting me down next to him. I scowl, pressing my hair down as she continues, her tone almost conversational despite the speed of the exchange.
"You brats, unfortunately, don't have the option of reacting cleanly to someone bigger and faster than you, so we'll work on building your body to move before you have to think about it. Most of the time, it won't be a perfect dodge, but hopefully it will be just enough to avoid fatality."
"You're going to teach us to dodge like medics," I realize with some resignation, already dreading the schemes I can feel brewing inside the blonde's head.
"Neither of us plans to be medics, at least not using your rules. We like medical ninjutsu, but—" Kakashi protests, but the Slug Princess cuts him off with a wave of her hand.
"Yeah, I know, you impertinent little shits. I've already heard Brat One's issues with my rules. I'm not gonna force you stubborn kids to stay on the sidelines, but until you're big enough to tank a hit, I'll train you to dodge them."
Kakashi and I exchange another look before nodding, settling further into our stances.
"Jeez. Are these two brats codependent or something?" Tsunade asks as she looks between us incredulously, hands on her hips. "I've seen teams that have been together for a decade be less in sync."
Ojiisama chuckles. "No, we checked. They aren't trauma bonded either, but I'm fairly convinced they share brain cells."
Kakashi and I exchange another look before shrugging, somewhat used to our adults talking about us like we aren't standing right fucking there. "Thank you?"
The medic's eyebrow twitches in annoyance and she charges again. "That's not a compliment!"
This time, I bolt forward first, grabbing her hand as she swings at me, but rather than blocking it, I use it to hurl myself up and cartwheel over her head. It startles her enough to let Kakashi strike at her hip.
My partner and I whirl and twist around one another, this time trying to react faster while increasing unpredictability. Kakashi uses his slightly superior height and strength to strike at the places left open while I use my tiny size and flexibility to make them by drawing our opponent's attention and forcing her to twist at awkward angles.
Tsunade smirks. "You, little Uchiha," she says, pivoting sharply to intercept me, her elbow catching my punch mid-transition, the impact stinging up my arm, "I can see your clan's style there, and a bit of the snake bastard's influence, and there is something else as well that kind of reminds me of my Tobirama-Ojisama, but I don't think I've ever seen anyone move so much like they're dancing while in a fight."
"Hn," I acknowledge her accurate analysis. I've learned some very interesting fighting styles over my lifetime and I favored ones that were flexible and flowing like water. This combined with my love of dance created an interesting effect. It would be stranger if the remnants didn't bleed through.
"That said, it feels like there are still some inconsistencies you haven't worked out from trying to combine those styles of yours. In time it will be quite formidable," the Slug Princess notes, driving me back with a brutal backhand that has me yelping before turning immediately to meet Kakashi's next kick. "These acrobatics of yours are tricky to counter and predict, but you aren't fast enough yet to compensate for the extra time and stamina they take. You, mini-Hatake, have a similar issue because your clan style is intended to be used with summons, swords, and that bloodline limit of yours. Right now, it's like you're fighting with half your limbs tied behind your back."
Ojiisama exhales a thin stream of smoke, and I feel through the ambient chakra in the air as it twists to form the shape of a winding dragon. The chakra manipulation distracts me enough that Tsunade's next kick sends me sprawling.
"What she means," he says calmly, his voice carrying easily across the field without rising, "is that your foundations are correct."
Kakashi lands with an oof next to me and we both lay splayed out on the dirt panting raggedly.
"In battle, you must predict your enemy's next moves," he continues. "And rely on instinct drilled so deeply into your body that it acts before your mind has caught up. Against larger opponents, against faster opponents, that is the best way to survive."
Tsunade snorts, beckoning us to attack again. "No, it will be the only way you survive."
The medic promptly demonstrates. Her movements abruptly blur as she changes pace without warning.
Kakashi falters first—his next movement coming just a fraction off. Half a second later, I curse, my flow stuttering, the shaky transitions between two of my movements disrupted by an axe kick that comes out of nowhere, forcing me to recalibrate faster than my body is able, sending me tripping sideways.
"There," Tsunade says, not showing any strain at all as she comes at us again, "that's the problem."
She drives forward, forcing us apart, then immediately closes the gap between us before we can reestablish our balance, and I bare my teeth slightly at a sharp hiss of pain from my partner as Tsunade grazes his bicep in a sharp strike.
"Taijutsu is made of forms and patterns," she continues, her tone still conversational but sharper now, more focused as Kakashi redirects one of her palm strikes away from my ribs. "Kata are carefully constructed moves that are repeated over and over until they become muscle memory. But when someone stronger than you forces you out of them and you don't have the battle sense and experience to adjust—what do you do then?"
Scowling in frustration at another strike slamming into me, I use Kakashi's shoulder to kick at her collarbone, attempting to loosen the rigid structure of my movements into something more reactive. Kakashi follows a moment later, and I can feel the way his chakra fluctuates as he attempts to force himself to stop overthinking.
"Better," Ojiisama rumbles, sounding pleased. "But not enough."
Tsunade ends it instantly.
One moment we're engaged.
The next, she's between us.
Her hands snap out, catching Kakashi at the shoulder and me at the wrist, stopping both of us mid-motion as though we weigh nothing at all.
"That's enough," she says, releasing us just as easily.
I step back, exhaling slowly, resetting my stance, while Kakashi rolls his shoulder, tension still lingering in the set of his body as we instinctively fall in next to one another again.
"They're good," Tsunade says after a moment, crossing her arms under her bust as she turns to my grandfather again. "Hell, they're great."
"What they lack is the experience that builds reflex and prediction," he continues.
Tsunade huffs. "In other words, they're great as long as the fight makes sense."
"And most fights," Ojiisama replies calmly, "do not."
"Hey!" Kakashi snaps, finally losing patience with the criticism, hackles raised. Honestly, he had lasted far longer than I thought he would.
I pout even as I grab Kakashi's shoulder, silencing the incoming tirade before it escapes him. We both know they're right, but it is still annoying to be criticized for the things we can't help. Oro-sensei has always talked shit to us while training, but I could feel the disgruntlement from my friend at being criticized by yet more people.
Tsunade glances between us, then grins slightly. "Good news is, that's fixable," she says, smirking. "Bad news is, you're really not going to enjoy how we fix it." She tosses her hair behind her again, cracking her knuckles menacingly. "Let's go again. This time, use whatever you've got in your arsenals."
Kakashi's posture tightens first, the shift subtle but immediate as his chakra begins to stir again, though this time the lightning does not scatter loosely along his coils as it had before, instead drawing inward, compressing, refining, until what gathers around his arm is no longer the erratic crackle of standard raiton, but something quieter, sharper in its intensity as it hums rather than sparks.
Meanwhile, I draw my own chakra inward in response, not mirroring him but aligning with the silent shift, as my Sharingan spins to life, the world bleeding into sight in vivacious swirls of color and chakra.
Tsunade notices both changes immediately, of course she does, her grin widening slightly as her gaze flicks between us.
Ojiisama exhales another thin stream of smoke, his voice following without urgency. "The boy is surprisingly skilled with his bloodline for his age," he says, not as praise but as observation. "It's been a fair while since I've seen Hatake white chakra up close."
"Same here," Tsunade agrees with interest, and I sigh, realizing the two were probably going to keep talking like we weren't here. "Sakumo-sama has rarely been assigned to the same battlefields or missions as us sannin because he's probably stronger than all three of us, maybe even combined."
Kakashi's eyebrows furrow and Tsunade notices, explaining. "It's imperative to spread out the elite shinobi so that no war front is weaker than another. As such, your father spent most of his time during the Second War handing Suna its own ass or holding off Kumo and embarrassing them with his superior raiton jutsu. My team was instead sent to keep Ame, Iwa, and occasionally Kiri in check. So brat, tell me what you think your kekkei genkai does."
Kakashi lets out a barely audible growl of frustration that only I can hear at her provocative demand, but answers. "It's a mix of lightning and yin chakra with a hint of yang. Our white chakra has the unique ability to cut through almost anything. Otousama manipulates it as a chakra construct, but I can't use it like that yet."
"Eh," Tsunade shrugs. "From what I understand of it, that description is correct, but simplistic. The most dangerous thing about Hatake white chakra is that it can 'sever' damn near anything. That includes chakra. Your dad is known as the White Fang because of his sword skills, yeah, but more terrifying is his ability to 'devour' others' techniques. Where most shinobi meet force with greater force, that technique instead disregards the contest entirely."
"Frankly, white chakra is some straight overpowered bullshit," Tsunade concludes after a moment, huffing as she cocks her hip, resting her hand on it.
"Bruh, ain't no way the Senju-Uzumaki princess gets to talk about bullshit bloodlines," I snort in incredulous disbelief as Kakashi begins to snicker, losing control of his chakra and making it flicker between pure white and the blue of lightning. "The Mokuton could drain and suppress the chakra of even tailed beasts and the Kongō Fūsa could immobilize damn near anything without breaking and be used for sealing!"
"Oh, stuff it, brat! I don't have access to either Wood Release or Adamantine Chains and your magical peepers aren't any better! Now focus!"
I roll my eyes but steady myself, Kakashi doing the same next to me as his chakra steadies in my periphery.
"Good. Brat Two, don't lose that compressed edge," Tsunade barks, "because if you let it spread and weaken, it goes right back to normal lightning, and normal lightning would barely tickle me."
There's no threat in it.
Just fact.
I move at the same moment Kakashi does, neither of us waiting for her to close the distance this time, because we both understand now that waiting only gives her control over the rhythm.
Kakashi takes the lead, the pale concentrated chakra lining the side of his forearm in a jagged blade-like construct.
Tsunade shifts to meet him, her hand coming up to intercept —and for the first time, she doesn't catch it cleanly.
The moment his strike meets her guard, there is a subtle but unmistakable disruption, not force against force or a clash, but a slip, as though the chakra reinforcing her skin has been parted rather than broken, the edge of his technique biting through just enough to force her to adjust rather than absorb.
Her grin sharpens immediately.
"Oh, that's nasty," she says, clearly pleased even as she shifts her weight to compensate, her hand coming away busted and bloody, her eyes pointedly not looking at it.
Meanwhile, I'm already darting in from the opposite angle as I weave through the space rather than breaking into it. My fingers flick as thin strands of chakra extend outward, nearly invisible as they anchor and release in rapid succession.
A slight pull on Kakashi's sleeve with one of them adjusts his follow-up by inches, aligning his second strike with the opening created by the first, while another thread anchors briefly to the ground, stabilizing my own pivot as I close the distance, driving my foot into the back of her thigh as I pass.
Tsunade's gaze finds mine.
"You're both getting irritating," she remarks, though the approval in her tone is unmistakable.
Kakashi presses, his next strike sharper, more refined, the white chakra along his arm maintaining its edge just long enough to force Tsunade into leaning back on less stable footing, and that is all the opening I need.
I use my chakra string like a bungee cord to launch myself, blasting back the way I came and straight at her side, drawing chakra into my fist, tightly controlled just enough to reinforce the strike without exceeding what my bones can handle.
The impact lands. It's neither pretty nor perfect, but I fucking land that shit.
The force carries through her guard, amplified just enough by the concentrated chakra to disrupt her stance and force her back half a step, the recoil traveling up my arm immediately, sharp and biting as I yowl in pain, but nothing's broken, so it's a clear win.
Tsunade's eyes widen briefly and Kakashi takes the opportunity to drive an electrified fist into the back of her knee, having lost control of the white chakra seconds ago, and he slides between her legs to land at my side again in a crouch.
Tsunade actually gasps as her leg finally buckles and drops her to a knee.
I freeze, surprised.
Next to me, Kakashi freezes, equally as shocked.
Even Tsunade freezes for a moment before slowly turning to lock amber orbs with mercury ones. Then she laughs, deep from her belly and genuinely mirthful, the sound bright and unrestrained in a way that I had yet to see the Slug Princess ever be.
"There it is," she says, clearly satisfied as she rises to her feet, grin wide and feral. "That's what I was looking for! If you can't use the Strength of a Hundred constantly yet, use it like that! When it matters, not every damn second!"
The sannin straight cackles as Kakashi and I brace ourselves again, warily watching her.
"And that teamwork! You little shits have been targeting my lower left side and I didn't notice until a few moves ago."
"Even without the experience, their battle IQ is prodigious in its own right," the Uchiha elder adds with a smirk, and I blink, startled, as I note he's pulled out a fucking chabudai and tea set from Kami knows where and started making tea, casually whisking away with the chasen. There was even a whole-ass furo with a kama simmering atop it as the water heats.
"…Bruh," I mutter in disbelief. "When the hell—"
"Come drink some tea while we discuss," Ojiisama calls, and I take comfort in the fact that even Tsunade looks a bit bamboozled even as she walks over, and Kakashi and I follow in silent bewilderment.
Ojiisama observes us for a long moment with dark, endless eyes before speaking.
"Kakashi-chan, your taijutsu forms are nearly perfect. And your bloodline will allow you to bypass defenses that others must break," he says evenly, his gaze steady on Kakashi, "but only if you learn when to apply it and when not to waste it. I have seen Sakumo-sama slice through bijū tails with that white chakra and once even shield half a battalion with it—" My jaw drops in awe. "—But right now, you can't even hold it for more than a few seconds, so don't get cocky."
His attention shifts to me and I straighten.
"And you, my girl, are incredible with those chakra strings. It's even more impressive that you can work them around your partner, but it won't matter if they snap so easily. And if you don't know your own limits, that technique you learned from Senju-hime will destroy you before your enemies can. Additionally, you need more offensive techniques because if you can't end a battle quickly, your eyes will drain your chakra pool dry and your enemies won't have to lift a finger."
Tsunade snorts softly.
"In other words," she says, crossing her arms again, bosom bouncing in a way that has me checking for genjutsu with confusion at the physics of it all, "you've both got strong foundations and potential as well as absurd skills in teamwork and strategy, but you lack so much power that it almost doesn't matter. It is kinda like two fleas trying to take on an elephant. The effort is kind of cute, the squished corpses not so much."
Ojiisama hums, serving the last cup of tea with all the grace and precision of a full tea ceremony.
"Hn," my grandfather agrees simply. "But do not worry. Your elders and teachers shall guide you. Perhaps by the next time you return home, you might even be upgraded from flea to half-starved raccoon."
"That's an improvement?" I ask flatly.
"Mm," Ojiisama hums. "The starving ones bite harder."
"Raccoons have opposable thumbs. Better for wielding kunai," Tsunade adds, barely suppressing the laughter I can feel bubbling behind her sternum at our insulted, yet somewhat hopeful, faces.
"…Do raccoons normally have kunai?" Kakashi asks carefully.
"The successful ones do," my grandfather replies.
Tsunade slams back the rest of her tea like a shot of whiskey before standing. "All right, break time is over, little shits! Again."
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AN: That was so much I don't even know what to say ngl. Tell me what you think and please leave ideas down below! Love yall and see you soon! Next couple chapters are actually half complete so it shouldn't be as long.