Another Boring Uchiha Power Fantasy.

[Ding!]

[Weekly Sign-in available!]

[Signing in…]

[Obtained: Training Weights!]

Name: Mikoto Uchiha

Age: 13

Rank: Chunin

Affinity: Lightning Affinity, Fire Affinity, Yin Affinity, Water Affinity

Unique: Immense Chakra Reserves, Sharingan (Dormant), Advanced Growth Rate

Skills: Fire Style Mastery, Water Style Mastery, Clone Jutsu, Substitution Jutsu, Transformation Jutsu, Shurikenjutsu, Basic Taijutsu, Basic Genjutsu, Body Flicker, Perfect Chakra Control, Uchiha Style: Kenjutsu, Stealth, Survival Knowledge, Cooking, Medical Ninjutsu (Mystical Palm), Fūinjutsu Affinity, Pedagogy Mastery

Equipment: Kunai, Shuriken, Smoke Bomb, Explosive Tags, Poison Gas Bomb, Flash Bomb, Gas/Sleep Bomb, Food Pills, Wire Strings, Shark Skin, Giant Folding Fan, Bingo Book, Training Weights

Mikoto wrapped the weights around her legs before dawn.

They were heavier than they looked. Dense strips of weighted material that strapped snug against her calves and ankles, hidden beneath her pants. When she stood, the difference was immediate. Her legs felt like they belonged to someone else. Every step took effort, every jump required twice the push.

She loved them.

She ran the perimeter of the camp three times with the weights on before her genin woke up. By the time they stumbled out of the barracks into the grey morning light, bleary-eyed and yawning, she was waiting at the clearing with her arms folded and a look on her face that none of them liked.

”Good morning.” she beamed at them.

Chōza yawned. ”Is it?”

”It’s gonna be. Get to stretching, please.”

They stretched. She stretched with them, correcting Inoichi’s form when he leaned too far forward and adjusting Chōza’s stance when his knees drifted inward.

Shikaku, she noticed, didn’t need verbal correction. He watched her body and mirrored it. Visual learner. Inoichi needed the explanation alongside the demonstration. Chōza needed to feel it in his own body, needed her to physically guide his limbs into the right position before the muscle memory took.

She taught to each of them differently without thinking about it.

”Physical conditioning first,” she said. ”Three laps around the clearing. Then push-ups, sit-ups, and squats. I’ll be running with you.”

”How many push-ups?” Shikaku asked.

”As many as you can do. Then ten more.”

He sighed. ”What a drag.”

They ran. Mikoto ran with them, the weights on her legs turning what should have been an easy jog into real work. She kept pace with the genin rather than outrunning them, staying at Chōza’s speed since he was the slowest. She didn’t comment on it. She just ran beside him.

After the laps came the bodyweight exercises. They dropped into push-ups in a line. Chōza’s arms shook after fifteen. Inoichi made it to twenty-five before his form collapsed. Shikaku did twenty with perfect form and then lay face-down in the grass.

”Ten more,” Mikoto said. She was on her fortieth. The weights made everything harder. Her arms burned.

”I can’t, I’m gonna die…” Chōza cried, his face in the dirt.

”You can. Your arms aren’t broken. They just hurt. There’s a difference.”

He did six more before his elbows gave out. Inoichi managed eight. Shikaku, motivated by something that looked a lot like spite, finished all ten.

Sit-ups. Squats. More running. By the end of the first hour, all three of them were soaked in sweat and breathing like they’d been underwater.

Mikoto was sweating too. The weights were doing their job. Every movement cost more than it should, and by the end of the conditioning her calves were screaming.

”Water break,” she said. ”Five minutes.”

They collapsed. Chōza lay flat on his back staring at the sky. Inoichi sat with his head between his knees. Shikaku was on his stomach with his face turned sideways, one eye looking at Mikoto as she drank from her canteen.

”You did all of that with us and you’re not even winded…” he noticed.

She was winded. The weights made sure of that. But she wasn’t going to tell them about the weights.

”You need to train every day. Being stronger than you were yesterday will help you survive as a shinobi.”

After the break, sparring.

She paired them against herself again. This time she went a bit easier on them. Not beating them to the point where they needed to be healed by her afterward. She saw their flaws, hurt them till they fixed those flaws, and then fought until they were winded.

Next came genjutsu.

She sat them down in a circle.

”Genjutsu is chakra applied to a target’s senses. It manipulates what they see, hear, feel, smell, or taste. The key to breaking it is recognizing that you’re in one. And the key to recognizing it is knowing what your baseline feels like.” She held up her hand. ”I’m going to put each of you under a mild genjutsu. Something simple. A visual distortion. Your job is to notice it and break it.”

”Don’t we have to disrupt our chakra flow or something?” Inoichi asked.

”That’s right. The standard method is called Genjutsu Release. You form the Tiger seal and surge your chakra. It’s like shaking your head to clear water from your ears, but with chakra. If you can’t break it yourself, a teammate can break it for you by pushing their chakra into your system. Like Shikaku did for you yesterday.”

She looked at each of them.

”Ready?”

She placed Shikaku under first. A subtle shift, the trees behind Mikoto bending slightly to the left, the grass changing shade by a fraction. Nothing dramatic. Just wrong enough to notice if you were paying attention.

Shikaku’s eyes narrowed after four seconds. ”Something’s off. The trees.”

”Good. Now break it.”

He formed the Tiger seal. His chakra surged. The genjutsu shattered. The trees straightened.

”Four seconds to notice, two to break. Not bad.”

Inoichi was next. She placed the same genjutsu. He noticed in three seconds. His eyes flickered, scanning, comparing what he saw to what he remembered.

”The color of the grass is wrong,” he said.

”Break it.”

He formed the seal and the genjutsu dissolved.

”Three seconds. Good eyes.”

Chōza was last. She placed the genjutsu. Five seconds passed. Ten. Chōza looked around the clearing with a furrowed brow.

”Something feels weird,” he said. ”But I can’t tell what.”

”Keep looking. Trust the feeling.”

Another five seconds. ”The trees? No... the shadows. The shadows are going the wrong direction.”

”Break it.”

He formed the seal. His chakra surged. The genjutsu cracked and fell apart.

”Fifteen seconds,” Mikoto said. ”We’ll have to work on that. But you noticed. That’s the important part. A lot of shinobi never notice at all before they’re killed.”

She ran them through it again. And again. By the fifth round, Shikaku was catching it in two seconds, Inoichi in two, and Chōza in eight. Progress.

Then the chakra paper.

Mikoto pulled three small squares of paper from her vest pocket. She’d requested them from the supply tent two days ago.

”These are chakra induction paper. Made from trees that were fed with chakra as seeds. When you channel your chakra into them, the paper reacts to your elemental affinity. Fire burns it. Wind cuts it. Lightning wrinkles it. Earth crumbles it. Water soaks it.”

She handed one to each of them.

”Don’t overthink it. Just push a small amount of chakra in and let the paper do the rest.”

Shikaku went first. He held the paper between two fingers and channeled. The paper crumbled to dirt in his hand, and the dirt smoldered with faint embers before going out.

”Earth and fire,” Mikoto said. ”Two affinities. That’s a good start.”

Chōza went next. The paper did the same thing. Crumbled to dirt. Faint embers.

”Earth and fire as well.”

”Same as Shikaku?” Chōza looked at his pile of dirt and then at Shikaku’s. ”Is that normal?”

”It’s a coincidence, probably.” She nodded at Inoichi. ”Your turn.”

Inoichi channeled. The paper went damp in his fingers, moisture spreading from the center outward until it was soaked through and dripping.

”Water.” Mikoto said.

Inoichi looked at the wet paper. ”Is water good?”

”Every element has strengths and weaknesses. Water is versatile. Defensive, offensive, supportive. In Rain Country especially, you’ll never run out of material to work with.”

”What’s yours?” Shikaku asked.

”Lightning, fire, water, and yin.”

Three pairs of eyes stared at her.

”Four?” Chōza said.

”Four.”

”Is that... normal?”

”It could be. I don’t know for sure though.”

Shikaku looked at her for a long moment. She could almost see the gears turning, the scroll in his head labeled ”Uchiha Mikoto” getting thicker by the minute.

”We’re not going to start nature transformation training today,” she said. ”You need a solid foundation in chakra control first. But knowing your affinities tells me what direction to take you when the time comes.”

”When will that be?” Inoichi asked.

”When you’re ready. I’ll know.”

They trained for another hour. More taijutsu drills. Kunai throwing accuracy at targets she set up on the scarred tree trunks. Chakra control exercises, walking up the side of a tree using only the soles of their feet. Chōza fell four times. Inoichi made it halfway before sliding down. Shikaku, predictably, figured out the theory in thirty seconds and then fell three times before his body caught up to his brain.

Mikoto demonstrated once. She walked up the tree, stood on a branch upside down, and walked back down without her hands leaving her pockets. The weights on her legs made it harder than it looked, but she didn’t let that show. She too wanted to feel cool in front of people sometimes.

”How?” Chōza said flatly.

”Chakra control. Too much and you blow yourself off. Too little and you slide. You need to find the exact amount and hold it constant with every step. It’s the same principle as medical ninjutsu, the same principle as nature transformation, the same principle as everything. Chakra control is the core foundation of most shinobi arts.”

They went at the tree again. By the end of the hour, Shikaku could get three quarters of the way up. Inoichi was just past halfway. Chōza was at a third, but his consistency had improved.

They were exhausted. All three of them sat at the base of the tree, legs sprawled, chests heaving. Mikoto sat with them, her own legs aching from the weights, sweat on her brow.

”You’re improving fast.” she said. And she meant it.

Shikaku was the thinker. Give him the theory and let his brain work out the application. Inoichi was the feeler. Explain the sensation he should be aiming for and let his awareness guide him. Chōza was the doer. Put him in the situation, let him fail, correct one thing, and let him try again. Three completely different students, and she could teach all three of them at once without any of them falling behind.

A runner appeared at the edge of the clearing. Young, maybe fourteen, with a dispatch pouch on his hip.

”Mikoto-chan!” He waved

Mikoto stood. ”Yes?”

”Your team is wanted at the command tent.”

”Understood. Thank you.”

The runner left. Mikoto looked at her genin.

Shikaku groaned and let his head fall back against the tree. ”We don’t even get to rest before a mission?”

Chōza raised his hand from where he lay sprawled on the grass. ”Can we eat breakfast first?”

Inoichi laughed. “We didn’t eat breakfast!”

Mikoto softly laughed. ”Let’s go see what they need us for. Then we’ll decide on what breakfast is looking like.”

The command tent was cool and dim after the heat of the clearing. Mikoto entered with her three genin behind her, all of them still flushed and sweating from training. She straightened her vest and bowed.

The camp commander was seated behind a field desk covered in scrolls and mission sheets. He looked up when they entered and his eyes moved from Mikoto to the three small figures behind her.

”Mikoto, how is your team looking so far?” He asked idly.

”They’re coming along just fine, sir.” Mikoto said honestly.

He looked at the three genin again. Sweating, red-faced, one of them visibly vibrating with hunger. He looked back at Mikoto.

”Just fine, huh.” He leaned back. ”If you’re able to turn even one of these three into half of you, that’s good enough for Konoha.” He pulled a mission sheet from the stack. ”Anyway, let’s get to business.”

He set the sheet on the desk and tapped it.

”Supply run. A shipment of weapons crates and medical supplies arrived at Drop Point Fourteen overnight. That’s four kilometers south of camp along the main trail. Secured territory, regular patrols on the route. The crates need to be hauled from the drop point back to camp. Twelve crates total. Some of them are heavy.”

He looked at Chōza. ”You’re an Akimichi?”

”Yes, sir.”

”Good. You’ll earn your breakfast.” He looked at Mikoto. ”D-rank. No expected contact. The route’s been clear for weeks. Get the crates, bring them back, log them with the supply officer. Simple.”

”Understood, sir.”

”Dismissed.”

They filed out of the tent. The morning air was crisp and the rain had held off for once, the sky a pale grey that was the closest Rain Country came to sunshine.

Chōza’s stomach growled again.

”Breakfast first?” he asked hopefully.

Mikoto considered it. They’d been training since dawn. They were running on empty.

”Quick breakfast. Then we move.”

“Yes!” Chōza pumped his fist. 

Shikaku shook his head with a grin. Inoichi fell into step beside Mikoto.

”Captain, the commander said ’half of you.’ What did he mean by that?”

Mikoto kept her eyes forward. ”He’s just overestimating me.”

”Overestimating?”

”Let’s focus on breakfast instead of me for now.” She giggled.

They ate. Chōza ate three servings. Shikaku ate one and spent the rest of the time watching Mikoto, who ate quickly and with manners. Inoichi ate at a normal pace and made conversation with the mess tent cook about the quality of the dried fish, which the cook said if he had a problem with it why doesn’t he cook instead?

Then they left.

The trail south of camp was a packed-earth path that wound through the forest along the ridge. The trees were tall here, their roots knotting through the soil like veins, and the underbrush was thick enough that visibility dropped to twenty meters on either side. Mikoto took point. Shikaku walked behind her. Inoichi and Chōza brought up the rear.

”Stay alert,” Mikoto said. ”The route is secured, but that doesn’t mean nothing can happen. Keep your eyes open and your ears working.”

”What would happen?” Chōza asked.

”Probably nothing. But probably isn’t definitely. That’s why we stay alert.”

They walked in silence for a while. The forest dripped. Birds called from somewhere overhead. The path was muddy in places and solid in others, and Mikoto picked the driest route without thinking about it.

Shikaku broke the silence first.

”You said you’d tell us our strengths and weaknesses later. It’s later.”

Mikoto glanced back at him. ”You’re really curious, huh?”

”Not really.”

She smiled. ”All right. Shikaku, your biggest strength is your mind.” She paused. ”Your weakness is your body. Your mind is three steps ahead and your body is two steps behind. You get tired too fast. Your taijutsu needs work. You rely on your brain to make up for what your muscles can’t do. That works until it doesn’t.”

Shikaku said nothing. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t argue.

”Chōza. Your strength is your heart. You commit fully to every action. When you charge, you mean it. You’re also the glue. When things went bad yesterday, you were the one who put a hand on both your teammates.” She looked back at him. ”Your mental strength needs work. Your taijutsu needs work. And your stamina needs work. You gas out before the fight is over.”

Chōza nodded slowly. He was listening hard.

”Inoichi. Your strength is perception. You notice things the other two miss. Your genjutsu detection was the fastest of the three. You’re calm under pressure and you think before you act.” She paused. ”Your weakness is your options. Right now, if your Mind Body Switch fails, you don’t have a backup plan. Your taijutsu is the weakest of the three. And your technique requires conditions that an enemy isn’t going to give you willingly. We need to build you more options.”

Inoichi absorbed this quietly. ”More options like what?”

”Taijutsu. Weapons. Maybe water ninjutsu once your chakra control catches up. You need to be dangerous even when you can’t use your clan technique.”

”Is that what you did?” Inoichi asked. ”Build more tools?”

”I’m still building them.” She turned back to the trail. ”That’s the job. You never stop.”

They walked on. The drop point was getting closer. The trees were thinning ahead, opening into a small clearing where the trail widened.

”Captain?” Chōza said from the back.

”Hmm?”

”Thank you. For actually telling us.”

”I don’t know why I wouldn’t tell you?” Mikoto was confused by his statement.

”Maybe it’s a grown up thing to say confusing stuff.”

”Probably.”

Shikaku snorted. 

Drop Point Fourteen was a flat clearing at the junction of two trails, marked by a wooden post driven into the ground with a number painted on it. Twelve crates sat in two neat stacks under a canvas tarp, guarded by a single chunin who was sitting on the largest crate reading a small orange book.

He looked up when Team Mikoto arrived.

”You the pickup?”

”Team Mikoto. D-rank supply run.”

He hopped off the crate and gestured at the stacks. ”Twelve crates. Eight are weapons, kunai and shuriken mostly, packed tight. Four are medical supplies, bandages and antiseptic and surgical tools. The medical ones are lighter. The weapons are not.” He looked at the three genin. ”Good luck, kids.”

”Thank you, sir.” Mikoto bowed.

Chōza was already eyeing the largest crate. He cracked his knuckles.

”I can carry four,” he said.

”Let’s start with two,” Mikoto said. ”Pace yourself.”

They divided the load. Chōza took two of the heavy weapons crates, one on each shoulder, his Akimichi strength making the weight manageable. Shikaku took two of the lighter medical crates, grumbling about manual labor being beneath a strategic mind. Inoichi took two medical crates as well, carrying them stacked with steady hands.

Mikoto took four weapons crates. Two under each arm. The guard stared at her.

”That’s about two hundred kilos.”

”I know.”

She started walking. The weights on her legs and the crates in her arms made every step a workout. Her muscles burned. She kept her breathing even.

Behind her, she heard Chōza whisper to Shikaku: ”How is she doing that?”

”She’s a Chunin.”

”Chunin can do that?”

”I guess so, dude, I don’t know.”

The walk back was slower than the walk out. The crates were awkward to hold and the trail was narrow and muddy. They stopped twice so Chōza could adjust his grip and once so Shikaku could swap a crate to his other hand.

The conversation drifted.

”Captain, what was the Academy like for you?”

”Like it is for everyone. Studying, sparring, ninjutsu, and other stuff.” She adjusted a crate. ”Why?”

”Sounds like the same thing we went through. I thought you’d be different since you’re so young and already a Chunin.”

”Nope. Regular academy life.”

”Did you graduate early?”

”No.”

”You graduated at a normal age and you’re already a Chunin… How terrifying are you Captain?” Shikaku said from behind.

”I’m not terrifying at all, thank you very much.” Mikoto corrected him promptly.

“I think I’d hear a different story from the people you fought, Captain…” Shikaku figured.

“Well you’re not going to. So stop thinking about it.” Mikoto told him.

Inoichi and Chōza snickered as they too began wondering about their captain.

The trail was quiet for a moment except for footsteps and the clink of supplies.

”What’s it like?” Chōza asked. His voice was softer now. ”The front.”

Mikoto thought about the ridge. The rain. The tower filling with wounded. The green glow of her hands and the red that never fully washed away.

”Loud and rainy and you don’t sleep much.” She adjusted the crates again. ”But that’s not something you need to worry about right now. Your job right now is to train, get stronger, and continue improving. The rest comes when it comes.”

”Will we have to go?” Inoichi asked.

”Eventually. Everyone does.” She looked back at them. Three eleven-year-olds carrying boxes down a muddy trail in the rain. ”But not yet.”

They reached camp before noon. The supply officer logged the crates, checked the seals, and signed off on the mission. Mikoto filed the completion report at the command tent.

Their first mission as Team Mikoto. Twelve crates, four kilometers, zero casualties, one very hungry Akimichi who made a beeline for the mess tent the moment they were dismissed.

Shikaku watched Chōza go and then looked at Mikoto.

”That was just carrying boxes.”

”Yes.”

”That’s what D-rank missions are?”

”That’s what D-rank missions mostly are. Chores.”

”What a drag.”

”You’ll miss them when they’re gone.”

He looked at her. He didn’t understand what she meant. She wished he wouldn’t have to for a long time.

”Come on,” she said. ”Let’s go make sure Chōza leaves some food for the rest of the camp.”

They walked to the mess tent together.