After leaving Jiraiya's command tent, a Chūnin in charge of logistics guided the trio toward the camp's rest quarters.
The rain hadn't let up, and the paths through the tent rows were muddy and treacherous.
Due to the increasing number of injured shinobi at the front, accommodations were incredibly strained. It wasn't uncommon to see multiple ninja crammed into tiny tents.
"Um… Lord Fugaku."
The Chūnin stopped in front of a relatively dry, spacious single-occupancy tent and spoke with a mix of deference and flattery."This one was reserved for you. As for the other two Genin, there's still space in the barracks tent ahead…"
In Konoha, the Uchiha clan—overseeing the police force—was a powerful aristocratic family. Even at the frontlines, no one wanted to offend the red-eyed nobility.
Fugaku paused, glancing between the warm, private tent and the two drenched boys behind him, both already resigned to head toward the communal sleeping area.
"...Not necessary."
He cut the Chūnin off coldly, arms folded."Give this tent to a severely injured soldier. Get us a three-person tent—or we'll share this one."
The Chūnin froze."Eh? But sir, that's against protocol—"
Fugaku shot him a glare that could silence thunder."These two have zero battlefield experience. If there's a night raid and no one's watching them, they'll die. I'll be supervising up close."
"Y-Yes, understood!" The Chūnin bowed repeatedly and scurried off.
Minato blinked in surprise, then gave his trademark warm smile."Fugaku-senpai, you really don't have to—"
"Shut it."
Fugaku barked, stepping through the flap."Don't get the wrong idea. I'm just preventing your deaths from lowering our mission rank. Get in."
Tetsu's lips curled faintly.
Tough words. Reliable heart.
The tent was small. Once three sleeping bags were rolled out, there was barely any room left.
The oil lamp flickered gently, casting long shadows across the cramped space.
Outside, the rain tapped rhythmically against the canvas.
Then—
"Let's review today's battle."
Fugaku sat cross-legged in the corner, calmly wiping his kunai with a cloth. His tone was sharp—clearly stepping into his role as squad leader.
"Namikaze Minato."
"Yes!" Minato sat up immediately, still organizing his gear.
"Your speed is top-tier. Your reflexes are sharp. But your charge on the Iwa Jōnin was reckless." Fugaku didn't sugar-coat anything.
"You went in without intel. That's suicide. What if the man had explosive tags under that hardened skin?"
Minato scratched his head, sheepish."I panicked. I saw Tetsu in danger and acted before I thought. I'll work on that."
Fugaku nodded curtly—then turned.
"And you. Nishikawa Tetsu."
Tetsu was roasting some salvaged gear over an alcohol lamp, but looked up calmly.
"That 'science' of yours worked. It saved us. But—"
Fugaku's eyes narrowed."That was circumstantial. You had a sealed space. If we'd been in open terrain, or on flat ground, would your bag of tricks still help?"
He leaned forward."Your chakra is far too low. That's a fatal flaw in this world. If we're in a war of attrition, you become our biggest liability."
That was the truth—and Tetsu knew it.
He paused, carefully laid the Iwa-nin's scorched forehead protector aside, and met Fugaku's stare.
"You're right. My chakra reserves are a weakness. That's exactly why I use science—to compensate."
Then, a spark flickered in his eyes."But since you brought up attrition, I have a question for you, senpai."
"...Speak."
"The Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu you used in the gorge—it was impressive. But from an energy conversion standpoint, it had a 40% waste rate."
The tent went deathly still.
Minato gawked.Did he just say that out loud?!
He's... criticizing an Uchiha's Fire Style?
Fugaku's forehead twitched. His cloth crumpled in his fist."...What did you say?"
His voice was dangerously low. The Sharingan nearly activated on instinct.
"You, a Genin who hasn't even learned chakra nature transformation—teaching an Uchiha how to use Fire Release?"
"Not teaching. Analyzing."
Tetsu remained unshaken. He struck a match.
A small orange flame danced at his fingertips.
"This flame is around 800°C. The Great Fireball you used? Deep orange—borderline red. That color indicates incomplete combustion. Unburned carbon particles—soot—lower the heat density."
He flicked the flame out and pulled out a magnesium strip left over from his flash bomb experiments.
He lit it.
Sssss—SHING!
A brilliant white flame flared, nearly blinding.
"This is complete combustion. Blue or white flames mean optimal oxygen mix and maximum heat. With the same chakra, if you compressed the fireball and increased air integration, you could more than double its temperature and massively improve penetration."
He looked back at Fugaku, whose hand had frozen mid-polish.
"To be blunt, senpai—your Great Fireball wasn't burning. It was spitting fire."
"If you optimized that? Even without the Sharingan, you might've melted that Earth Wall."
Silence fell over the tent.
Fugaku stared at him—then inward.
His entire life, the Uchiha had taught: more chakra = bigger fireball = more power.
No one had ever mentioned flame color, thermal efficiency, or oxygen ratios.
If anyone else had said it, he'd have kicked them into a wall.
But this was the kid who just turned baking ingredients into a Jōnin-killer bomb.
That insane result gave his words a terrifying kind of credibility.
"Compress volume… optimize mix…"
Fugaku mumbled. A hint of inspiration sparked.
If this was real…
If this worked…
His jutsu's power could evolve beyond anything he'd known.
Eventually, he exhaled sharply.
The pride in his shoulders loosened. His gaze softened—just a little.
"...What a load of crap."
He rolled over in his bag, tugged the blanket up.
"If I try it tomorrow and it doesn't work, I'm beating you senseless."
Minato, watching all this, slowly gave Tetsu a silent thumbs-up.
Talk-no-Jutsu level: god-tier.
To make an Uchiha question his bloodline ninjutsu?
That was more terrifying than an S-rank technique.
Tetsu quietly blew out the oil lamp.
In the dark, lying on a cold military cot, he listened to the rain quiet beyond the tent.
Step one: establish trust and influence—complete.
Now came the hard part:
Keeping up with these two future legends...
And surviving the war.