Another Boring Uchiha Power Fantasy.

[Ding!]

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[Obtained: Regenerative Healing Jutsu!]

Name: Mikoto Uchiha

Age: 14

Rank: Special Jonin

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

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

Skills: Fire Style Mastery, Water Style Mastery, Lightning Style Mastery, Yin Style Mastery, Earth Style Mastery, Shurikenjutsu, Elite Taijutsu (Ninja Art: Bare-Handed Blade Block), Superb Genjutsu, Ninjutsu (Body Flicker, Clone Jutsu, Substitution Jutsu, Transformation Jutsu, Ninja Art: Shuriken Shadow Clone Jutsu, Amplified Summoning Jutsu), Perfect Chakra Control (Chakra Enhanced Strength), Uchiha Style: Kenjutsu, Stealth, Survival Knowledge, Cooking, Medical Ninjutsu (Mystical Palm, Chakra Scalpel, Poison Extraction Jutsu, Regenerative Healing Jutsu), Fūinjutsu Mastery (Sealing Jutsu: Release), Pedagogy Mastery, Space-Time Ninjutsu Mastery, Seven Heavens Breathing Method, Musical Talent, Craftsmanship Aptitude, Needle Mastery

Equipment: Kunai, Shuriken, Senbon, Smoke Bomb, Explosive Tags, Poison Gas Bomb, Flash Bomb, Gas/Sleep Bomb, Food Pills x84, Wire Strings, Shark Skin, Bingo Book, Training Weights, Fūma Shuriken x80, Hero Water x10, Desert Cookbook

The Regenerative Healing Jutsu. The knowledge unfolded in her mind like a scroll being read at high speed. This was a technique designed for the most severe, life-threatening injuries, the kind that required an entire team of medics working for hours around a patient, converting cell samples into whatever tissue was needed to mend wounds that no single healer could fix alone.

Except she wasn’t like most healers. Her Sharingan could see cells directly. Her chakra control was refined enough to convert cellular material without a team guiding her. Her reserves were deep enough to sustain the procedure without backup shifts.

She could do the work of an entire intensive care unit by herself.

If she’d had this yesterday, Nawaki’s surgery would have been far less desperate.

She couldn’t focus on this now though. She’d practice it when time allowed. Right now, she had a genin to check on.

Mikoto walked toward the medical station. The battle was won. The valley was theirs. But her mind was two kilometers north, in a medical tent where her student was either recovering or dying, and she needed to know which.

The forward medical station had been set up in a clearing behind the secured compound. Canvas tents. Stretcher lines. The familiar smell of antiseptic and iron that Mikoto could navigate with her eyes closed. Wounded shinobi sat or lay in rows outside the main tent, waiting their turn. A few of them looked up when she passed. A few nodded. One whispered ”Red-Eyed Angel” to the man beside him.

She found the tent where the critical patients were being kept. She pushed through the flap.

Nonō was sitting on the floor beside Nawaki’s cot. She hadn’t left. Her glasses were smudged, her clothes still caked in mud from the battlefield, and her eyes were red from crying and exhaustion. She looked up when Mikoto entered and something in her face eased, the relief of seeing the one person she trusted most.

”Sensei...” she whispered.

Nawaki was on the far cot. Bandaged from neck to waist. His left arm was splinted and wrapped. His right leg was elevated and immobilized. The burns on his face had been treated, the raw flesh now covered in medicinal paste and gauze. He was unconscious. Breathing and alive.

Standing beside his cot was Tsunade.

She was twenty-five. Tall, blonde, and slim. Her hands were on Nawaki’s bandaged chest, green light flowing from her palms. She was checking the damage. Evaluating what had been done to save her brother.

She looked up when Mikoto entered.

Their eyes met.

The green light died.

Tsunade looked at Mikoto. Standing in the tent entrance. Upright. Uninjured. Not a bandage on her body. Not a burn on her face. Her Sharingan spinning, red and whole and perfect, while behind her, on the cot, the thing that used to be her brother lay wrapped in gauze and medical paste because he no longer had skin.

”You…” Tsunade growled.

”Tsunade-san.” Mikoto bowed her head. She’d seen this look before, on the faces of parents, siblings, and lovers in field hospitals across the war. The look of someone whose loved one was on the table and whose grief needed a target. ”I didn’t realize you were here… I know it doesn’t look like it, but he’s going to survive…”

”Survive.” Tsunade stood from the cot. She was taller than Mikoto by a head. ”Survive. Look at him, Mikoto. LOOK AT HIM!”

Mikoto didn’t need to look. She’d spent forty minutes with her hands inside his body, seeing every ruined cell, every shattered bone, every dying fiber. She knew what Nawaki looked like better than anyone alive.

”I was the one who put him back together, Tsunade-san... I know what he looks like…”

”Then you know he doesn’t have a FACE!”

The tent went silent. Every medic. Every patient who was conscious. Every set of eyes turned to the two women.

”His body is covered in burns. His arm was broken in three places. His knee is destroyed. He has scars that will never heal.” Tsunade’s voice shook. Her fists were clenching at her sides, the knuckles white. ”I gave you my brother and you gave me back a piece of meat that used to be a boy.”

”He’s alive because I was there.” Mikoto’s voice was calm but it wasn’t cold. There was grief in it. She was sad about Nawaki too. She’d trained him, fed him, scolded him, watched him grow for some time. But she’d also warned him. Repeatedly. And he hadn’t listened… Sadly.

Tsunade’s anger spiked. The air in the tent thickened. Medics stepped back. Patients who could move pulled their blankets tighter. ”He’s TWELVE! He’s a child! YOU were supposed to protect him!”

”I saved him... He’s breathing.”

”BREATHING ISN’T ENOUGH!” Tsunade didn’t decide to swing. Her body decided for her. 

Grief and fury compressed into a fist that carried enough power to demolish walls.

Mikoto’s Sharingan caught the movement before Tsunade’s arm finished extending. The three tomoe read the familiar chakra compressing in Tsunade’s fist, the trajectory aimed at her chest. A punch that would go through her ribcage and out her back if it connected.

She didn’t need to think since she had no plans of dying. Her hand found Shark Skin’s handle and ripped the bandaged cleaver off her back and braced it flat-first between herself and the incoming fist.

The impact was staggering. The force transferred through the blade, through Mikoto’s arms, through her entire body. Her feet left the ground. She flew backward through the tent wall, through the canvas, through the support poles, and hit the dirt outside hard enough to dig a furrow three meters long.

Nonō screamed and threw herself over Nawaki’s cot, shielding him from the debris as the tent wall collapsed outward 

Mikoto rolled to her feet. Her arms were numb. The cleaver was still in her hands. The Sharingan was still spinning. Her heart was hammering.

She would have died. Without the Sharingan’s warning and Shark Skin between her and that fist, she would be dead. That kind of made her angry.

Tsunade came through the hole she’d made in the tent wall furious as all hell.

Mikoto understood Tsunade. She’d dealt with grief-stricken families as a medic. She’d been screamed at, grabbed, shoved by people who were terrified and angry and looking for someone to blame. She understood that grief sometimes turned to anger or violence.

But understanding didn’t mean accepting. If Mikoto had been any other shinobi, she’d be dead. That first punch wasn’t a warning. It was lethal. And the fact that Tsunade hadn’t calibrated it, hadn’t even thought about the fact that she was swinging at a fourteen-year-old with a punch that strong, was an act that Mikoto would not forget.

Mikoto whispered an apology to Shark Skin as she placed the cleaver on her back. She wouldn’t use this weapon against a fellow Konoha shinobi. Not even one who was consumed with emotion trying to kill her.

Tsunade saw the sword go away. Her expression twisted. The brat was disarming herself. Showing pity. Showing mercy. As if Tsunade needed mercy from a fourteen-year-old.

”Don’t you DARE look down on me! Mikoto of the Cleaving Blade!” Tsunade leaped into the air, rising five meters above Mikoto, her right heel raised for an axe kick that would crater the ground and anything standing on it.

Mikoto sidestepped. The heel hit the earth where she’d been and the ground split in a starburst of cracks that ran outward for ten meters. Dirt and stone erupted. Mikoto kept her footing through the shockwave.

Shinobi were gathering. The sound of the first impact and the shattering ground had drawn every ninja within a hundred meters. They formed a loose ring around the two women, faces ranging from shock to alarm to horror of watching a famous leaf nin try to murder the camp’s most beloved medic.

Emi pushed through the ring of gathered shinobi, fan on her back, eyes wide. She’d heard the impacts from the mess area. She took in the scene in two seconds: the crater, the furrows in the dirt, her brother.

”What the HELL is going on?!” she shouted. Nobody answered her. Nobody needed to. She figured it out on her own and her expression went cold.

Three chunin moved forward. ”Tsunade-san! Stop! That’s-”

”Stay out of it, please.” Mikoto said. Her voice carried across the clearing. ”It’s okay. Don’t interfere.”

”But Mikoto-san, she’s-”

”She’s just overcome with grief right now.” Mikoto looked at Tsunade as she said it. Although Mikoto understood, someone of Tsunade’s rank and age should be better in controlling their emotions. If she wasn’t who she was, she would’ve died from that first initial punch. That really upset her.

The clearing went quiet.

Tsunade stared at her. ”You little brat,” Tsunade said. Her voice was hoarse. ”You really think you understand me? You think you know what this is?”

”I think you’re scared,” Mikoto said. ”You almost lost your brother and still haven’t come to terms with how to handle that.”

”I’ll show you scared!”

Tsunade closed the distance in an instant. Even emotional, even off-balance, she was fast in a way that most jonin couldn’t match. Her fist came in low, aimed at Mikoto’s ribs, the Chakra Enhanced Strength compressing at the point of contact.

Mikoto’s Sharingan read the trajectory. She couldn’t block it, not with her bare hands, not at this force. She deflected, redirecting the blow’s angle with her palm against Tsunade’s wrist. The blow went wide, cratering the ground beside her instead of through her.

Tsunade followed with a left hook. Mikoto ducked. The fist passed over her head and the air pressure from the swing alone knocked her hair flat.

Mikoto countered. Her own Chakra Enhanced Strength surged into her right hand and she drove a fist into Tsunade’s gut.

Tsunade went flying into the distance, her eyes widening as blood flew from her mouth.

Tsunade landed and started healing her internal organs as she looked at Mikoto in disbelief.

”You were born with monstrous strength as well?” Tsunade asked.

Mikoto didn’t answer. She shifted her stance.

”No, otherwise the reports on you would’ve mentioned it from your time in the academy…” Tsunade realized.

”Have you calmed down yet?”

”That’s my technique!”

”You don’t own it. Anyone could learn it if they tried hard enough.” Mikoto knew the principles behind the technique. All it took was enough chakra control.

Tsunade ran back in. She led with a straight right aimed at Mikoto’s sternum. Mikoto pivoted left, letting the punch sail past her ribs. Tsunade didn’t stop. She flowed from the missed straight into a left hook aimed at Mikoto’s temple. Mikoto swayed her head out of the way and Tsunade was already following up, driving her right knee toward Mikoto’s exposed stomach. Mikoto caught the knee with both hands before spinning and slamming Tsunade into the ground. Tsunade rolled back to her feet, narrowly avoiding a downward punch from Mikoto that cracked the ground.

Tsunade closed the gap once more, throwing a right elbow at Mikoto’s jaw. Mikoto dropped her chin and let the elbow skim over the top of her skull, her hair whipping forward from the near miss. She snapped a counter, a rising punch aimed at Tsunade’s floating ribs. Tsunade twisted her torso, taking the hit on her hip instead of her ribs, and answered with a spinning backfist that came around so fast Mikoto had to throw herself backward to avoid it.

The watching shinobi didn’t interfere. Mikoto had told them not to. But their faces told a story.

They watched Tsunade, one of the Hokage’s students, a woman they’d respected and admired, attacking a fourteen-year-old girl who had saved hundreds of lives at this camp. Who was standing there taking hits and fighting back with grace while the woman who should be thanking her tried to put her in the ground.

Whispers started. Mikoto didn’t hear them. Tsunade didn’t hear them. But they were there.

”She’s attacking Mikoto-chan?”

”The Red-Eyed Angel saved her brother’s life.”

”What the hell is wrong with her?”

”Someone needs to stop this.”

The fight continued. Tsunade threw a haymaker that Mikoto countered with a punch of her own, causing the two to skid backwards from the clash. Mikoto rushed in with a sweep kick that Tsunade hopped over, followed by an uppercut that caught Tsunade’s chin and sent her flying into the sky.

She came back down with a punch from the heavens that Mikoto dodged.

Tsunade leaped into the air again. Another axe kick. This one aimed at Mikoto’s head. The ground she’d be standing on would become a crater and Mikoto would become part of it.

A hand caught Tsunade’s ankle before she landed.

Orochimaru stood between them. He’d appeared without sound, without warning, without any indication that he’d been approaching. One hand held Tsunade’s ankle mid-kick, stopping the blow with a grip that shouldn’t have been strong enough to halt that much force but somehow was. His gold eyes were flat.

”Enough.” he said.

”Let go of me!” Tsunade tried to wrench free.

”The Uchiha girl is the only reason your brother is alive.”

”I KNOW THAT!”

”Then what in the hell are you doing, making a ruckus in my camp?”

Tsunade hung by her ankle, her face contorted with something that was too many emotions to separate.

”What are you doing, Tsunade?”

She went limp. Orochimaru set her down properly. She stood in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by dozens of Konoha shinobi who were looking at her with several emotions. Hostility, disappointment, confusion, anger, killing intent. If it wasn’t for Mikoto’s words, perhaps she would’ve been declared a traitor on the spot and attacked by multiple shinobi here.

”WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Every head turned. Emi shoved through the ring of shinobi, her fan on her back, her face snarling. She’d been standing in the crowd since the fight moved outside. She’d watched every punch. Every crater. Every moment of her sensei being attacked by the woman her brother couldn’t shut up about. And she’d stayed back because Mikoto-sensei told them to stay back, and unlike some people, Emi listened when her sensei gave an order.

But the fight was over now. And Emi was done listening.

”She saved Nawaki’s life!” Emi’s voice cracked across the clearing. ”I was there! I stood guard while she spent ages bringing him back from death! She was healing him the entire time and she didn’t stop for an instant! And this is what you do?!”

Tsunade looked at her. Dan’s little sister. What was she doing here…? Sharp green eyes that looked exactly like Dan’s, but Dan never looked at her like this.

”Emi...”

”What do you think my brother would think?” Emi’s voice dropped. ”What would Dan think if he saw you right now? Trying to kill the girl who saved your brother in front of everyone!?”

Tsunade’s face crumbled.

”He’d be ashamed of you. I know I am.” Emi said.

The clearing went silent. Even the whispers stopped.

The tears came.

”I know,” she said. Her voice broke. ”I know she saved him. I know he’d be dead without her. I know.” She was shaking. ”I just... when I saw him... when I saw what was left of him... I couldn’t...”

”You attacked a child,” Orochimaru said. His voice was quiet. ”A very well-liked child who saved your brother. In front of the entire camp. Of people she’s no doubt saved or helped in some way.”

”I know.”

”You understand what this means…”

Tsunade didn’t answer. She was crying.

Mikoto stepped forward.

”It’s okay.” She exhaled some of the frustration that was building within her.

Every shinobi in the clearing looked at her. The girl whose first words after being attacked by a fellow leaf comrade were ”it’s okay.”

”I’ve been where you are, Tsunade-san,” Mikoto said. ”I’ve had patients’ families lash out at me. I’ve been blamed for injuries I didn’t cause and thanked for saves I barely pulled off. The people who love the person on the table don’t always react the way we’d hope.” She paused. ”You love your brother more than anything. That’s not a crime.”

”I attacked you.”

”Yes. You did.” Mikoto would definitely remember this. Her patience wasn’t endless. She wasn’t some saint or an actual angel.

Tsunade looked at her. Red, wet eyes meeting red Sharingan eyes.

”I’m sorry…” Tsunade whispered.

”I know.” Mikoto decided that she would be the bigger person here.

Orochimaru looked between them. Then he took Tsunade by the arm, gently.

”Come,” he said. ”Your brother needs you at his side. Not making a fool of yourself out here.”

He guided her back toward the medical tent. Tsunade went. Her shoulders were shaking. She didn’t look back at Mikoto. She didn’t look at anyone.

The clearing was quiet for a long time after they disappeared into the tent.

The whispers didn’t stay whispers.

By evening, every shinobi in the forward camp knew what had happened. Tsunade, one of the Hokage’s students, had attacked the Red-Eyed Angel for saving her brother’s life. Had tried to beat a fourteen-year-old girl to death in front of the entire medical station. Had been stopped by Orochimaru before she could land a killing blow on a fellow Konoha shinobi.

The reaction was universal and it was not in Tsunade’s favor.

Mikoto had healed hundreds of shinobi by now. Maybe even thousands. She’d taught other medics. She’d fought beside her comrades across several battlefields. She’d saved Nawaki Senju from injuries that should have been fatal. And Tsunade had thanked her by trying to cave her skull in.

Orochimaru told Tsunade the truth that night.

”You need to apologize,” he said. ”Publicly. In front of the camp.”

”I know.”

”If you don’t, this goes into a formal report. Attacking a fellow Konoha shinobi during wartime is grounds for execution. At minimum, jail time. I would be obligated to treat you as a rogue shinobi to the force.”

”I know, Orochimaru.”

”Then do it tomorrow. The longer you wait, the worse it gets. For all of us.”

She did it the next morning.

The forward camp assembled in the clearing where the fight had happened. The cracks in the ground from Tsunade’s kicks were still there, unfilled. Mikoto stood at the front of the gathered shinobi, her posture straight, her Sharingan active.

Tsunade stood in front of her. In front of everyone.

”I owe an apology to Uchiha Mikoto,” she said. Her voice was even but her eyes were still red. ”Yesterday, I attacked her without justification. She saved my brother’s life at risk to her own, and I repaid her with violence. That was wrong. It was inexcusable. And it goes against everything I believe as a shinobi and as a medical-nin.”

She looked at Mikoto.

”I’m sorry, Mikoto. Truly. For what I did and for the example I set. You deserved better. My brother is alive because of you, and I should have said thank you instead of… what I did.”

Tsunade bowed deeply toward Mikoto.

The camp waited.

Mikoto looked at her. The woman who’d tried to kill her yesterday, standing bent at the waist, apologizing in front of hundreds of people who were waiting to see whether the Red-Eyed Angel would forgive the woman who’d hit her.

”I should’ve done better, honestly.” Tsunade said, her head still lowered. ”I’ve been in similar situations throughout this war and never once did I attack a medic for trying their best.” Her voice cracked. ”I was better than that. I am better than that. And I failed.”

Mikoto stepped forward. She put her hand on Tsunade’s shoulder.

”I accept your apology, Tsunade-san.” She said. Loud enough for the camp to hear. ”And I look forward to working with you in the future to save more lives of our friends, family, and loved ones.”

Tsunade straightened. Her eyes were wet but her back was straight.

The camp exhaled. Not everyone was satisfied. Some would hold the grudge longer than others. But the public apology and the public acceptance closed the wound enough to prevent it from festering and turning into something far worse. An outcome that might have needed the Hokage to intervene in.

Orochimaru, watching from the edge of the assembly, nodded once to himself and walked back to the command post. He wasn’t really sure if he was capable of killing Tsunade in the first place. So, he was glad everything turned out alright. At least for now.

That Uchiha girl, really has a good rein of her emotions for a Uchiha… And I heard they were the most emotional clan in Konoha. It turns out sensei isn’t always right…