Chapter 8 - Chapter 8: Faction

(In the data book, it's said that the three Sainin graduated from the academy at the age of six 😕 )

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"Raiton: Seiten-shō!"

Lightning crackled in my palm like a soda can shaking with rage. It wasn't some legendary S-rank technique that could blow up mountains, this was just a humble zappy D-rank jutsu.

It channels a small amount of lightning chakra into the palm, forming a static field that shocks the opponent upon contact.

Think of it as the ninja version of dragging your socks across a carpet and then touching your annoying cousin—but with muscle spasms and the faint possibility of making your opponent pee a little.

The moment he launched his 'fireball', I was already counting down, most Genin have a tiny buffer window after releasing a Jutsu—barely a second, but again, to Ninja who are all about speed, a second is enough to end a fight.

I dodged clean, like it was choreographed. Like I was born for this.

Then I struck. Not with a legendary jutsu. Not with a flashy finisher. Just my good ol' punch zapping with the small lightning.

Now, this technique wasn't going to drop a bear with one hit but it did cause muscle twitching and some sweet, sweet numbness. On an average Genin, that's more than enough.

If two Chunin were punching each other full-force, their fists would already deliver this kind of damage. That's why this is a D-rank. It's not useless—just... situational. Like using pepper spray in a gunfight.

But this guy is also young and although his strength is better than mine, but that's all, it's just a fight between two chickens.

You know how you can tell a Genin isn't built for real combat? When they try to moonwalk backward after getting shocked, face all surprised like they just realized that a five year old girl who obtained Lightning Release scroll for a month has already mastered some.

Too late, buddy.

He hesitated, and in that hesitation plus the little buffer time, I made him pay. My lightning-charged punch sank into his gut with a satisfying whomp.

There was no time for mercy—I mean, who knows? Maybe punching him in the face would've rewired his brain and made him awaken some nonsense like Ultra Instinct: Uchiha Edition.

Not risking that.

He staggered but stayed on his feet—I'll give him that. Still, the coughing told me my attack was much stronger this time. And thanks to the jutsu's paralysis effect, his body was probably locking up like an old Windows PC.

But I didn't feel proud, not even a sliver of joy.

He was just a Genin. Not even qualified to be cannon fodder in the Great Ninja Wars.

Definitely not worth mentioning in the Fourth War where people like Kaguya were treating Kage like bowling pins. Hell, let alone Boruto's era has alien space gods popping out like they're on a subscription plan.

Maybe it's because I'm five. Yeah, five. And sure, I've got experience and talent most people would kill for, but my body and chakra reserves are still baby-sized.

Give me a teenage body—just 15, not even full-grown—and I'd already be able to at least knock on Kage level's door like a debt collector.

I shook those thoughts away. Now wasn't the time to fantasize.

Just as I was about to go in for another round while the Genin was still wheezing, one of the elders stepped in like a killjoy.

"That's enough. We've seen what we needed to see."

No. No no no. I glared.

Do you know how long it's been since I had the joy of legally smacking someone in the face without consequences?! And you interrupt me now?

I wasn't the only one pissed. The Genin boy looked like someone just unplugged his game mid-boss fight. But he swallowed it, bowed slightly, and muttered, "Yes, Father."

…Oh, so that's, his father stopping his game mid-boss fight, that's the usual routine.

But still, this was the son of an elder, Hah. That explains the 'you're worthy to lead me' talk earlier.

He wasn't just testing me for himself—he was the representative of a faction.

And suddenly, the fight felt a little more political than personal.

"I didn't expect someone who's never had a proper fight, and who only started extracting chakra less than a year ago, to be this strong," the elder said, giving me the kind of look old people reserve for miracles and suspiciously spicy curry.

Tch. Not only did he crash my fight, but now he was blocking my post-victory plan after showing off: convincing Father to teach me Shadow Clone Jutsu.

I had a whole agenda set up for this duel. One dramatic win. One epic speech. And boom—Shadow Clone scroll delivered.

But nope. This old bastard had to show off his Three Tomoe Sharingan mid-fight to remind me he's a Jonin and that I don't stand a chance against him.

Figures. Probably didn't want to see his kid get folded like a camp chair in front of everyone.

Sensing my sour mood, my father—bless his dramatic soul—appeared beside me in a flicker of speed.

"You did very well. Better than expected. You should be proud."

I was this close to doing a smug 'hmph', but that'd make me look like a tsundere. And the Uchiha already have that reputation without me feeding the fire.

"Anyway, Father… about that Shadow Clone thing we talked about?"

Before he could answer, the elder raised his hand like we were in class.

"I agree with Tajima-sama's decision. You're not ready for a technique like Shadow Clone. It's not a matter of talent about the risks. That jutsu can be dangerous if misused. Fatal, even."

Dangerous? Tell that to Itachi, Shisui, and even Kakashi were throwing clones around like confetti in their first year. Sure, Itachi had his terminal anime disease, but Shisui and Kakashi turned out fine.

My guess is Shisui probably found some clan legacy scroll, and then taught Itachi himself.

So what's the excuse for stopping me?

I didn't argue. Waste of breath. But oh, I will get that scroll today no matter what.

Seeing that I didn't push back as usual, Father's eyes narrowed a little, probably wondering why I let it go so easily, especially after the fight.

"In any case," he said, turning to the other silent elders. "Azula has demonstrated her ability. I believe there's nothing more to discuss."

That wasn't a question. That was a statement with edge—like, 'say something and I'll make it a problem' energy.

And that is how you win a battle, get denied a scroll, plot petty revenge, and still make your dad proud—all in one morning.

...

...

...

After the test ended, something strange happened.

My father didn't return with us. Instead, he stayed behind with the elders—probably to engage in one of those long, mysterious grown-up discussions filled with heavy silences, slow nods, and the occasional dramatic Sharingan eye contact.

Maybe they were discussing politics, clan strategies, or just trying to figure out which brand of tea best symbolizes the Will of Fire. Who knows?

So it was just me and my mother walking back home.

Not that I minded. On the surface, she's quiet, gentle, but she walks like a ghost—always one step ahead, even when I try to outpace her.

She didn't say much, and neither did I. The silence between us wasn't uncomfortable, though. It was more like... peaceful. A small bubble of calm in a world that always felt like it was on the edge of a kunai.

Anyway, today's a break. After the test, there's no academy, no lectures about the Will of Fire. No weekly test, and naturally, no teachers giving me the side-eye because I finished my written test before they finished passing out the papers.

According to my original plan, I should have spent the day sleeping or goofing off, but nope. I had work to do.

Namely—finishing Season 1 of Demon Slayer.

Originally, according to my estimation, I should have finished it today, but I had too many things to do and too much training to go through because my father isn't going easy on me.

But hey, I'm getting there. With luck and two more sleepless nights, I might be able to wrap it up in three to four days.

Still, while my hands were busy with ink and scrolls, my mind was active as always.

Specifically, I was trying to figure out how to convince my father to let me learn the Shadow Clone Jutsu today.

Sure, I've shown talent—plenty of it. Maybe not at full throttle, but enough to turn heads. If I'm being honest, my current level is probably on par with Kakashi at this age.

And that's me being humble. Most kids my age are still trying to do the Clone Jutsu without vomiting.

Also, I can be playful, I've got a sense of humor, I like mischief—but definitely not childish.

I've already proven my maturity. I think deeper, plan farther, and weigh consequences more than most adults I know.

So clearly, I need to show him more than just skill—I need to show judgment. That I won't abuse the jutsu. That I understand my body's limits. That I know when to stop and when to push.

But there's another decision looming over me, one even heavier than convincing my father.

My faction.

I have to decide where I stand in the grand chessboard of the shinobi world.

Option one: stick with the Uchiha clan. Natural, right? They're my people. My blood. My roots. But the problem? Clan politics. Elders whispering in corners. Alliances made in secret. Compromises that chip away at your freedom one favor at a time. I didn't sign up to be a pawn in some passive-aggressive family reunion.

Option two: pledge loyalty to the village. Not a bad idea. The Hokage system provides structure, resources, and lots of cool jutsu tucked away in forbidden scrolls. But again—politics. You gotta kiss the right rings, smile at the right people, act like you're okay with dying for the village even if the village wouldn't blink if you vanished.

Option three: create my own organization. Like the Akatsuki, but, you know, without the global terrorism. A group of rogue shinobi bound not by politics or tradition, but by shared vision and strength. No masks, no lies—just purpose.

The downside is the recruitment, building trust, and the precious time I would have to waste. And worst of all—being hunted by five major villages before your second team meeting.

Option four: build a new village from scratch. Ambitious, wild, chaotic—and oddly tempting.

But then again, in this world, only power truly matters.

Everything else—loyalty, politics, even ideology—is just decoration. The only thing you can truly count on is your own strength.

That's why the real purpose of choosing a faction isn't about who I serve—it's about what resources I can gain access to.

If I align with the Uchiha, I get access to all their Yin attribute research, their ancestral secrets, their eyes—literally and metaphorically.

If I reach high enough in the village—maybe even Hokage—I gain access to all forbidden techniques, battlefield intel, and the kind of tools that make empires rise and fall. If I go rogue, I have freedom... but I also have to fight for every scroll, every secret, every breath.

So yeah, I'll work with the Uchiha for now. They're my starting point. My default team. But the moment their politics start dragging me down, limiting my growth, or wasting my time, then sayonara.

(END OF THE CHAPTER)

It was indeed short according to my standards, I shall release another chapter tomorrow and don't forget to vote guys