The morning sunlight streamed lazily through the tall windows of the Ninja Academy, painting golden streaks across rows of wooden desks. Dust motes drifted in the air, catching the light like tiny sparks of chakra. The classroom was already buzzing with the soft chatter of students—some whispering about the latest gossip, others trading snacks before the lesson began.
At the far back of the room, in the last row and right beside the window, sat Uchiha Izumi. Her chair was tilted back just slightly, her elbow propped against the desk, her chin resting in her palm. She liked this seat. It wasn't just about the breeze that sometimes slipped in through the half-open window or the good lighting for daydreaming—it was, in her mind, the protagonist's seat. From here, she could see the entire classroom, every single classmate and every little drama that unfolded. And when the lesson grew dull, all she had to do was turn her head to watch the training field outside.
Right now, that was exactly what she was doing.
Outside the window, a group of older students were engaged in a sparring session. Dust swirled around their feet as they moved in quick, practiced steps, their wooden kunai clashing with satisfying thwacks. Some lunged aggressively, others dodged with nimble footwork, and one boy in particular let out a rather theatrical battle cry that made Izumi stifle a laugh.
Interesting… she thought, eyes following a particularly sharp exchange of blows. Their stances are a bit wide. That one's footwork is sloppy. And that boy's chakra control—ugh, leaking everywhere.
"Thud!"
Her thoughts were interrupted by something small and hard bouncing onto her desk.
"Ouch!" She rubbed her head in exaggerated offense before her eyes fell on the culprit—a piece of chalk now rolling slowly across the wood.
She looked up to see her teacher glaring at her with a mixture of disapproval and amusement. The man's expression all but said, I know exactly where your attention is, young lady, and it isn't here.
Izumi offered him an apologetic smile, her lips curving in just the right way to soften the reprimand. Around her, several classmates chuckled under their breath, clearly entertained.
The teacher shook his head lightly, deciding she wasn't worth the trouble for now, and resumed the lecture. Izumi straightened in her seat, trying to appear attentive.
"…and so," the teacher was saying, "to graduate from the Ninja Academy, each of you will need to master the Three Basic Ninjutsu: the Clone Technique, the Transformation Technique, and the Substitution Technique. Without these, you will not pass your final exam."
This immediately sparked a reaction. Several hands shot up, and voices filled the air.
"Sensei! Show us the techniques!"
"Yes, please! I've never seen them before!"
"Come on, Sensei!"
Most of the excitement came from children of non-shinobi families. Unlike those from ninja clans, they rarely had a chance to witness ninjutsu up close, and to them, even the simplest technique was fascinating.
The teacher rubbed the back of his head, clearly giving in to the peer pressure. "Alright, alright. Since you're all so eager, I'll demonstrate."
"Yay!"
The chorus of cheers filled the room. Students leaned forward, eyes bright with anticipation.
The teacher stepped away from his desk to the open space near the blackboard. His expression turned serious, his posture straightening.
"Before we begin," he said, "you must understand that all ninjutsu require hand signs to mold and direct your chakra. There are twelve basic signs: Rat, Ox, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Ram, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, and Boar. Remember them well."
Izumi couldn't help the small smirk tugging at her lips. Twelve signs, huh? Borrowed from elsewhere, I see. Stolen teachings, but fine—at least they work.
Her face, however, showed nothing but polite anticipation.
"First," the teacher announced, "the Substitution Technique!"
His hands blurred through the signs with practiced speed. In the blink of an eye, his body vanished from the spot—and in his place, a rough wooden log clattered to the floor. Gasps filled the room as he reappeared several meters away.
"Next, the Clone Technique!"
With another swift series of signs, a perfect copy of the teacher appeared beside him.
"Finally, the Transformation Technique!"
The clone puffed into smoke and reformed into the familiar, imposing figure of the Third Hokage.
The classroom erupted in exclamations.
"Wow!"
"That's amazing!"
"How did you—?!"
With another bang, the transformed figure vanished, and the teacher stood alone once more.
"Did you see that?" he asked with a grin. "These are the Three Basic Ninjutsu. In time, all of you will learn them. But first, you must build a strong foundation. If your basics are solid, you can go on to learn far more powerful techniques. Understood?"
"Yes, Sensei!" the class replied in unison.
In the back corner, Izumi's crimson Sharingan shimmered faintly before fading back into deep black. Her smile was almost lazy. It doesn't seem that difficult, she thought.
She'd already memorized the chakra flow and the exact sequence of hand signs just from watching once. She made a mental note to test them at home later.
She glanced at the new textbook on her desk, flipping it open for show. Her fingers brushed the page, and in that moment, tendrils of Divine Ink Chakra curled from her palm, snaking over the paper. In an instant, the text was imprinted in her mind, every character absorbed. She closed the book, returning the chakra to her reserves.
Well… that's that. All read.
Her discovery during the process brought a small thrill—her Divine Ink Chakra could do more than absorb text. It could write on and manipulate light materials like paper or cloth. Not exactly a fearsome combat skill, but useful in its own way.
She thought about puppet masters and sealing scrolls, then about her own reality. Not much compared to the techniques out there… but better than nothing.
That was why she'd started quietly sewing talismans into her clothing. Beneath her uniform, bandages and cloth strips were etched with small seals—subtle layers of self-defense.
Then her mind darkened, thinking of the terrifying shinobi who would one day threaten the world. A sigh escaped her. Will I really be able to defeat them? Is my so-called cheat ability too weak?
But a moment later, she shook her head. One step at a time. I'll worry about it after I awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan. Or maybe even the Rinnegan.
When the final bell rang, Izumi hurried home, her thoughts already on the techniques she'd seen.
"Alright," she said to herself as she stepped into her room, "let's try this."
Her fingers formed the signs without hesitation. "Shadow Clone Technique!"
With a sharp bang, a perfect copy of herself appeared, blinking at her. They stood face-to-face, mirroring each other's movements. Izumi leaned to the right; the clone leaned the same way. She tilted her head; the clone did too.
She giggled, then dispelled it with a wave.
"Next—Transformation Technique!"
In a puff of smoke, her form shifted into that of her mother, Uchiha Hazuki. Adjusting her posture, she opened the door and stepped out.
Hazuki was sweeping the hallway when she looked up—and nearly dropped her broom.
"Ah!" she yelped, staring at her double.
The transformation melted away, revealing Izumi's mischievous smile.
"Oh, you little—!" Hazuki raised the broom like a weapon and chased her daughter down the hall. Izumi darted away, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. After a few minutes, Hazuki gave up, tossing the broom into her daughter's arms.
"Since you're so full of energy, you can finish cleaning!"
"Yes, Mother," Izumi said sweetly. But as soon as Hazuki turned her back, Izumi formed the signs again.
"Shadow Clone Technique!"
Another Izumi appeared, looking at her original with a mix of disbelief and mild suffering.
"You," the real Izumi ordered, pointing to the broom, "do the cleaning."
The clone let out a sigh but obeyed, sweeping diligently.
Hazuki returned, eyes widening. "You can already use the Clone Technique? That's amazing!"
Izumi puffed out her chest. "Of course. Who do you think I am?"
Hazuki flicked her nose. "My overly proud daughter, that's who. Try being humble once in a while."
"I am humble," Izumi replied innocently.
The broom swished in the background as the clone worked. Izumi, meanwhile, settled comfortably on the sofa, resting her head on her mother's lap.
After a while, Hazuki asked, "If you've learned the Three Basic Ninjutsu, you could graduate early, right? Do you want to?"
Izumi shook her head. "Not yet. I want to strengthen my basics before I even think about it."
"Good. Graduating too early can be dangerous." Hazuki smiled. "Alright then, since you've been working hard… what do you want for dinner?"
Izumi sat up immediately. "Meat! I want meat!"
"Meat it is," Hazuki laughed, heading to the kitchen.
Izumi watched her go, a warmth settling in her chest. What a good mother… In this life, I feel younger somehow. More dependent on her. But… I don't dislike it.
She stretched out on the sofa and closed her eyes, drifting into a nap until Hazuki's voice called her to dinner. The aroma of roasted meat filled the house, and Izumi dug in happily, every bite reminding her how lucky she was.
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