The excitement of the fight still lingered in Reiji's chest long after the last movement had ended. The training ground behind the Uchiha compound had grown quiet again, the trampled grass still showing the marks where he and Arata had exchanged blows.
Across the clearing, Arata sat on the ground, breathing heavily. His hands rested on his knees as if he still expected them to move again, as if the fight might resume if he only steadied himself. But the outcome had already settled in his expression. Confusion mixed with frustration.
Reiji had beaten him.
Not easily. Not cleanly enough to feel effortless.
But clearly enough that even Arata knew it.
Fugaku had watched the entire exchange without interrupting. He stood a few paces away, arms loosely folded as he studied the ground where the fight had unfolded. His expression was calm, almost neutral, but Reiji noticed the subtle focus in his eyes. The older boy was replaying the movements in his head, measuring distances and reactions the way experienced shinobi did.
Finally Fugaku looked down at his younger brother.
"You rely too much on the Sharingan."
Arata blinked, caught off guard by the comment.
Fugaku continued in the same calm tone, neither harsh nor particularly gentle.
"The boost it gives you is addictive. Effective too. But that's exactly the problem." His gaze flicked briefly toward Reiji before returning to his brother. "If you start believing the dōjutsu makes you untouchable, you stop paying attention to the basics."
Arata frowned slightly, clearly not convinced.
Fugaku shook his head once.
"You need to stay calm. Keep your head clear. The Sharingan helps you read movement, but it doesn't win the fight for you."
The words hung in the air for a moment.
Then Fugaku shifted his attention back to Reiji.
"So," he said simply, "you next?"
Reiji blinked.
"Already?"
Fugaku nodded toward him.
"You sure you don't want to wait?"
Reiji rolled his shoulders, loosening the lingering tension in his arms. The fight with Arata had warmed his muscles but hadn't really satisfied him. The adrenaline was still there, humming beneath his skin.
"No," he said with a crooked grin. "I'm fired up. That was a good stretch, but it didn't scratch the itch."
Fugaku studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing something.
"I see," he said slowly. "What Arata said about you wasn't exaggerated."
Reiji smirked.
"That I'm awesome?"
A faint chuckle escaped Fugaku.
"Not exactly the word I would have used," he admitted. "But if that's what you prefer."
He straightened and let his arms fall to his sides.
"Alright. Let's fight now. We'll eat afterward."
He paused, then added evenly,
"But I'm sorry. No Sharingan from me. It would be too unfair."
Reiji rolled his eyes.
"You're a killjoy."
He tilted his head slightly.
"You're not going to refuse ninja tools and ninjutsu too, right?"
Fugaku raised an eyebrow.
"You're sure about that?"
Reiji shrugged.
After a moment Fugaku nodded.
"Alright. But dull blades only."
Reiji answered without speaking. He unclipped the pouch from his waist and tossed it across the clearing. Fugaku caught it easily and opened it, pulling out a kunai to inspect the blade. He turned it slowly in his fingers, running his thumb along the edge before nodding once.
Dull.
Exactly as promised.
He placed it back inside and tossed the pouch back.
"I see you came prepared."
Reiji caught it without effort.
"Of course," he said. "I've been waiting for that all week."
Fugaku shook his head slightly, amused.
Then he turned toward Arata.
"Go bring me mine as well."
Arata blinked at the sudden escalation. For a moment he looked like he might object, but instead he nodded and jogged toward the house.
While he was gone, Fugaku began stretching slowly. He rolled his shoulders, rotated his wrists, and loosened his neck with a quiet crack of bone. The movements were controlled and deliberate.
Reiji watched him carefully.
He's about twelve, Reiji thought. Maybe a little younger.
Twelve years old.
The son of the Uchiha clan head.
Not someone he could treat like Arata.
This was a genin.
An Uchiha genin.
A slow smile spread across Reiji's face.
You didn't get chances like this every day.
At this point he was almost convinced that Arata attacking him earlier had been a blessing.
---
They faced each other across the clearing, roughly ten paces apart. The ground beneath their feet was dry, packed dirt interrupted by patches of flattened grass from earlier training.
Neither of them moved.
Reiji let his eyes settle on Fugaku's stance rather than his face. Shinobi fights rarely began with the hands. They began with the feet. Weight shifted there first—tiny adjustments in balance that revealed intention before the strike ever came. If Fugaku leaned forward a fraction, if his heel lifted, if his center of gravity slid even slightly, Reiji would see it.
But nothing happened.
Fugaku stood balanced and relaxed, knees loose, shoulders easy, weight centered perfectly between both feet. The stance revealed nothing.
The silence stretched.
A breeze passed through the clearing, stirring the leaves overhead and rippling faintly across the pond behind Fugaku.
Reiji smiled.
Then he moved.
He burst forward in a low sprint, sandals scraping hard across the dirt as he closed the distance in two quick strides. His blade rose with the motion, angled toward Fugaku's shoulder in a fast diagonal cut meant to force an early reaction.
Fugaku adjusted with only half a step.
Steel struck steel.
The dulled blades collided with a sharp clack that sent a jolt through Reiji's arm. Fugaku's wrist turned at the moment of contact, redirecting the force of the strike instead of stopping it directly. The movement was subtle, but the effect was immediate—Reiji felt his own momentum slide past the target rather than landing cleanly.
Reiji let the recoil carry him into the next motion. His blade dipped low toward Fugaku's ribs before snapping upward toward the collarbone in a tight follow-up meant to catch the recovery.
Fugaku blocked both attacks with minimal movement. His forearms rotated just enough to intercept the blows, guiding them away rather than meeting them head-on.
Reiji stepped inside the guard, shifting his weight forward and thrusting straight toward Fugaku's centerline. The attack aimed for the narrow opening between their blades, forcing Fugaku to react immediately.
Fugaku intercepted again. His elbow dropped and his blade angled downward to catch the thrust before it could reach his torso. The counter came instantly—his wrist rolling through a quick return strike that forced Reiji to twist his shoulder and hop backward to avoid it.
Too smooth.
Fine.
Reiji flicked his wrist.
Three kunai left his hand in rapid succession.
One high.
One center.
One low.
The spread wasn't meant to hit directly. It forced Fugaku to track three attack lines at once, forcing movement and opening space.
Fugaku slipped through them easily. His head tilted aside just enough for the first blade to pass. His shoulder rotated slightly for the second.
The third—
He caught it cleanly in his hand.
Reiji grinned despite himself.
'Good reflexes.'
His hand dipped back into his pouch and came out with four shuriken. He snapped his arm forward, releasing them in a wide fan that spread across Fugaku's position. The blades spun low and fast, their angles uneven enough that none followed the same path.
Fugaku reacted immediately. His blade flashed once, knocking two aside with quick deflections. His wrist twisted again to redirect a third into the dirt.
The fourth—
Reiji disengaged.
Two quick steps backward opened distance as his hand slipped into the pouch once more. His fingers closed around the small sphere inside.
The smoke bomb hit the ground between them.
It burst with a sharp pop.
Gray smoke exploded outward in a rolling cloud that swallowed the clearing within seconds. Visibility vanished almost instantly as the haze spread low across the ground, blurring shapes and distance alike.
Reiji moved immediately.
"Bunshin no Jutsu."
Chakra surged through his coils and two clones formed beside him, their outlines solidifying before sprinting straight into the smoke. The academy technique produced only illusions, no physical bodies—but it will do for now.
Reiji's arm snapped forward again.
Three kunai sliced through the smoke.
One high.
One center.
One low.
The blades cut through the haze with sharp whistles, creating the sound and trajectory of a direct frontal attack. From Fugaku's perspective it would look like Reiji continuing the assault through the smoke.
Exactly what he wanted.
Reiji's fingers slipped to another kunai.
A thin wire ran through the ring at its base.
He hurled it wide.
The blade struck the trunk of a tree behind Fugaku with a dull thunk, biting deep enough to hold. The wire snapped tight between Reiji's hand and the tree.
He pulled.
The tension dragged his body sideways across the clearing as he pivoted around the smoke cloud. Dirt tore beneath his sandals as he used the wire to sling himself quickly across Fugaku's blind side. The maneuver carried him along the edge of the smoke instead of through it, placing him behind the target without revealing his movement.
The clones burst from the smoke first.
Both rushed straight toward Fugaku with blades raised.
Reiji followed from behind.
He closed the final steps quickly, shifting his hips and raising his blade high for a descending strike aimed squarely at Fugaku's back.
For a moment the setup looked perfect.
Then Fugaku vanished.
The body in front of Reiji dissolved into a block of wood.
Reiji's blade crashed into the training log with a dull crack, the impact running up through his shoulder as the strike buried into the surface.
"Kawarimi," he muttered under his breath.
Too late.
A shift of air behind him.
Reiji twisted instinctively, but a shadow had already dropped from the branches overhead. Fugaku landed lightly on the ground behind him, sandals touching the dirt with barely a sound.
Their blades collided again with a sharp clack as the fight resumed.
The smoke drifted slowly away across the clearing, thinning into pale strands that curled between the trees until the training ground came back into view. Reiji barely noticed it. The fight had tightened again, distance collapsing as he pressed forward, blade moving in short controlled arcs. His feet slid over the dirt and damp grass, weight shifting from heel to toe as he chained one attack into the next—feint, cut, thrust, recover—never allowing the rhythm to settle.
Fugaku absorbed everything.
Their weapons clacked together again and again, dull steel striking dull steel. Each block sent a jolt through Reiji's arm, the vibrations running through his wrist and elbow. Fugaku's movements were economical and precise; he turned his shoulders just enough, angled his blade just right, letting Reiji's momentum slide past him instead of meeting it head-on. He stepped slightly to the side when needed, never retreating more than a fraction of a step, never hurried, never off balance.
Just better.
Reiji shifted his stance and lunged again, twisting his hips to drive the strike harder. Fugaku caught the blade cleanly and rotated his wrist, redirecting the attack. The counter came instantly. Reiji barely brought his forearm up in time to block, and the dull blade slammed into the bone of his arm with a heavy thud.
Pain flared.
His fingers spasmed around the hilt as numbness crawled down his hand. For a split second he almost lost his grip. Reiji stepped back quickly, shaking his arm once to bring feeling back into it while drawing a sharp breath through his teeth.
'Damn'.
Even without the Sharingan, the difference was obvious.
But the pressure in his chest only tightened, that familiar spark of excitement that came when a fight finally demanded something real. His pulse hammered in his ears, lungs working faster now, body warming with every exchange.
'Yeah.'
'You didn't get this in school'.
Reiji surged forward again before the gap between them could widen. His left hand snapped to his pouch and two kunai flashed out mid-stride, spinning toward Fugaku's chest and shoulder. The throw forced Fugaku to shift aside, his body turning just enough to avoid the blades.
That moment was all Reiji needed.
He closed the distance immediately behind them, pushing off the ground with his back foot and raising his blade for a heavy downward strike meant to crash straight through Fugaku's guard.
But Fugaku didn't step back.
He stepped up.
His body coiled and then released, pushing off the ground in a light, effortless leap. He landed several meters away on the surface of the pond, chakra gathering beneath his sandals and spreading across the water like an invisible platform.
He didn't hesitate. The moment Fugaku landed on the water, Reiji redirected his own chakra downward, sending it through his legs and into his feet. The familiar pressure stabilized his footing as he stepped onto the pond as well. The water dimpled beneath his sandals before settling, faint ripples spreading outward across the glassy surface.
Fugaku's eyebrow lifted slightly.
Reiji rushed forward immediately, blade rising from below in a fast upward cut aimed at the older boy's torso. His foot slid across the water's surface as he pushed into the strike, hips turning to drive the motion.
Fugaku twisted aside.
Too fast.
But not fast enough to hide the flicker of surprise.
Reiji laughed under his breath as he recovered the blade, circling across the surface of the pond. Every step sent ripples spreading outward, distorting the reflection of the trees above them. The water shifted beneath his feet with each movement, forcing constant micro-adjustments in his balance.
His breathing had grown heavier now, chest rising and falling quickly as the fight stretched longer than the academy spars he was used to. But the sensation only sharpened his focus. His muscles felt alive, every movement precise, every reaction immediate.
He liked this.
The danger.
The movement.
The fight.
His grin widened as he leveled the blade toward Fugaku.
"Come on," he said. "Show me something."
The words hung between them for a moment before he added, voice edged with challenge,
"Is the son of the Uchiha clan head really that weak?"
Fugaku blinked.
Scarlet replaced the calm darkness of his eyes. Two tomoe rotated slowly into existence, the Sharingan settling into place as easily as a breath.
The air seemed to tighten.
Reiji felt it immediately. The difference wasn't visible in Fugaku's stance, but something about the way he watched now—about the quiet precision in those red eyes—shifted the entire fight.
Fugaku spoke calmly.
"I suggest that you plunge into the water."
His hands moved through seals with practiced speed.
Chakra gathered.
" Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu."
The flames erupted across the pond in an instant. A massive sphere of fire tore across the water's surface, heat slamming into Reiji's face like an open furnace. The reflection of the blaze turned the pond into a sheet of molten orange.
No time.
Reiji dropped.
Cold water swallowed him whole as the fire roared overhead. The sudden shock of the pond drove the air from his lungs and stole the heat from his skin in an instant.
Above him the water churned violently as the fireball tore across the surface. Light flashed red through the water, rippling across the distorted reflections.
Reiji kicked deeper, forcing himself downward until the worst of the heat passed. His lungs already burned from the sudden dive. The blade felt heavy in his hand as he swung it once beneath the water to test the resistance.
Slow.
The water dragged against every movement, thick and stubborn.
But usable.
He angled his body upward, eyes tracking the shifting silhouette above the surface where Fugaku stood balanced on the water.
Then he paused.
Reiji's hand slipped into his pouch.
Two kunai.
Timing mattered.
If he surfaced first, the Sharingan would read the motion instantly.
So he threw first.
The kunai burst from the surface of the pond in twin sprays of water, spinning upward toward Fugaku's chest. The blades cut through the air with a sharp whistle.
Fugaku reacted immediately, shifting his stance to the side.
Just enough.
That was when Reiji exploded out of the water.
The pond shattered around him as he surged upward, water cascading off his shoulders and hair. The cold air hit his skin as he launched himself forward with everything he had left.
Reiji laughed breathlessly as he rose.
"Ahaha—"
Water streamed from his hair.
"You're fucking crazy."
He lunged forward, blade cutting toward Fugaku's torso in a fast, committed strike.
But the Sharingan was already turning.
Fugaku moved first.
He stepped aside before the attack could finish and caught Reiji's wrist with a firm grip. His fingers twisted sharply, sending a bolt of pain up Reiji's arm. The blade slipped from his hand and splashed into the pond.
Fugaku's other hand drove into his shoulder, pushing through his balance point.
The world tilted.
Reiji crashed back into the water with a heavy splash. Before he could recover, Fugaku had already pinned his arm behind his back, forcing him face-down against the surface of the pond.
The fight ended in a single clean motion.
Silence settled across the water again.
Reiji lay half-submerged, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Water dripped from his hair and ran down his face while his shoulder throbbed where Fugaku had forced him down.
Fugaku released him and stepped calmly across the pond toward the bank, his balance steady as if the water were solid ground.
Reiji rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky through the canopy of leaves. His lungs burned, muscles aching from the fight.
Then he laughed.
Short.
Breathless.
Yeah.
You definitely didn't get this in school.
---
Reiji pushed himself up from the pond, water dripping from his hair and sleeves as he climbed onto the bank. His clothes clung heavily to him and his shoulder still throbbed faintly where Fugaku had twisted his arm and forced him down, but the lingering ache only made the grin on his face widen. The fight had left his muscles warm and alive, the lingering adrenaline still humming through his chest.
Arata stood a few steps away, staring at him as if he had just witnessed something that didn't quite make sense.
Fugaku was equally soaked but otherwise composed. He brushed some of the water from his sleeves before glancing at Reiji again, studying him with attention.
"You really are a monster," Fugaku said at last, his tone calm but thoughtful. "Are you really the same age as my brother? You're what… eight?"
"Nine," Reiji corrected, wringing water from his sleeve before running a hand through his damp hair. "I had my birthday not too long ago."
Arata blinked again, clearly still trying to process what he had just seen.
Fugaku folded his arms loosely as he continued observing Reiji, his expression thoughtful rather than impressed in any dramatic way.
"For your age," Fugaku said evenly, "you're impressive. I could even say I wonder why you're still in the academy."
Arata's head snapped toward his brother immediately.
"Brother, aren't you exaggerating a little?" he asked.
Fugaku turned his head slowly and looked at him the way someone might look at a student who had just missed something obvious.
"Did you not see that?" he asked flatly. "That is not something an academy student should be capable of."
He paused for a moment before adding calmly,
"Nobody— not even me—was that strong at his age."
Arata scratched the back of his head awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable under his brother's gaze.
"Well… he's not even first in the class," he muttered.
Reiji's head snapped toward him instantly.
"Ah?" he said sharply. "What did you say?"
Arata shrugged as if the answer were obvious.
"It's true. Minato is better. Everyone knows it."
Reiji scowled immediately.
"Will you all stop worshipping this guy?" he snapped. "He's not that great. I don't see the hype."
Arata stared at him for a moment, his expression turning curious.
"Why do you always blow up whenever we talk about Minato?" he asked. "Are you jealous or something?"
Reiji's gaze locked onto him with enough intensity that Arata instinctively took half a step backward. Fugaku shifted slightly as well, positioning himself just a little closer to his younger brother without making the movement obvious.
Reiji rolled his eyes.
"I just can't stand him," he muttered. "Parading around the classroom like he's some hotshot. Acting like a saint. Nobody's perfect. He's just putting on a front."
Arata snorted.
"Yep," he said dryly. "Definitely jealous."
He quietly shifted another step behind Fugaku.
Reiji inhaled slowly through his nose, then exhaled. The irritation on his face faded gradually as he forced himself to calm down.
After a moment he looked back at Fugaku.
"Hey."
Fugaku glanced toward him. "Yes?"
Reiji rubbed the back of his head, eyes briefly dropping toward the ground.
"So… you can use fire jutsu, right?"
Fugaku blinked once.
"Yes."
"That means you've mastered your nature transformation?"
Fugaku tilted his head slightly.
"There is always room for improvement," he said calmly. "But yes. More or less."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Why?" he asked. "Don't tell me you already started training it."
"Well… yeah."
Reiji scratched his cheek.
"But I'm stuck."
Fugaku folded his arms again.
"Well, that's normal, isn't it? It was never meant to be easy—"
"No," Reiji interrupted, shaking his head immediately. "I know myself. I did it correctly. But it still doesn't work."
Fugaku regarded him with a slightly puzzled look.
Arata leaned closer to his brother and muttered under his breath,
"You see what I deal with every day at school? The ego on this guy."
Reiji ignored him completely.
His attention remained fixed on Fugaku.
"Could you show me how you do it?"
Fugaku studied him for several seconds, clearly searching his expression for any sign that he might be exaggerating or misunderstanding something. After a moment he sighed quietly and nodded.
He bent down and picked up a leaf from the ground.
"I assume you're doing the leaf exercise."
"Yes."
"Well…" Fugaku said slowly as he placed the leaf in the center of his palm. "I'm not sure how much this will help."
His fingers closed around it.
For a moment nothing happened.
Then thin wisps of smoke began curling out between his fingers.
When he opened his hand again, the leaf had turned black and brittle, its edges slightly curled from heat.
"The process is different for each element," Fugaku explained calmly. "What's your affinity?"
"Wind."
Fugaku nodded.
"As you saw, mine is fire. I compress the chakra first and then expand it to generate heat. That's the simplest way to describe it."
He shrugged lightly.
"So I can't really help you with wind itself. The nature is too different."
Then his eyes changed.
The dark pupils were replaced by crimson.
Two tomoe turned slowly within the Sharingan.
"But I can still look," he said.
Reiji blinked.
"The Sharingan? Why?"
"To see how chakra moves through your body," Fugaku answered simply.
Reiji glanced toward Arata with obvious interest.
'Damn', he thought. 'I underestimated those eyes.'
Seeing chakra directly…
The tactical implications ran through his mind instantly.
That's absurd.
He turned back toward Fugaku.
"I didn't know that," he said. "Is it because your eyes are different? You have one more dot than Arata."
Fugaku blinked once in mild surprise.
"You have good eyesight," he said. "Most people don't notice the difference."
He shrugged lightly.
"The Sharingan usually awakens with the first tomoe. That grants excellent vision and improved reflexes. The second tomoe allows us to perceive chakra clearly."
He paused briefly.
"The third improves things further, but I don't know much about that yet."
Reiji hesitated.
"…Is it okay to tell someone outside the clan that?"
Fugaku looked at him steadily.
"You're a shinobi of Konoha," he said calmly. "And the Uchiha are one of the founding clans of Konoha."
His tone remained even.
"We have nothing to hide from each other."
He shrugged slightly.
"And even if you know it, it does not make the Sharingan any less powerful."
Then his attention returned to the problem at hand.
"As I said, I can see your chakra flow. I might be able to tell what you're doing wrong."
Reiji crossed his arms.
"I already told you," he said stubbornly. "I did everything right."
Fugaku sighed softly.
"If you say so."
Reiji scowled but didn't argue further. Instead he bent down and picked up another leaf from the ground before placing it carefully in the center of his palm.
He focused.
Chakra flowed from his coils, down his arm and into the leaf.
Nothing happened.
The leaf remained perfectly unchanged.
Fugaku frowned.
His Sharingan focused more carefully.
----
Fugaku watched as Reiji repeated the exercise again.
The crimson of the Sharingan settled fully into place, the two tomoe rotating slowly as he focused on the chakra network beneath the boy's skin. The flow through Reiji's pathways was surprisingly clean. Each current moved with clear direction and control, circulating through the coils with a discipline that most academy students didn't possess.
Fugaku had seen grown shinobi with worse control.
Which made the result even stranger.
"Again," Fugaku said.
Reiji gathered chakra once more.
This time Fugaku followed the movement more carefully. The chakra condensed beneath the surface of Reiji's body, tightening as it should when a shinobi attempted to impose a nature transformation.
For a brief moment, the quality of the chakra changed.
Then the flow stopped.
Instead of being expelled outward through the hand and into the leaf, the chakra collapsed inward, folding back into the boy's network as if it had struck some invisible barrier.
Fugaku's brow creased slightly.
"Strange."
Reiji looked up.
"What is?"
"You are shaping your chakra correctly," Fugaku said. "And you clearly have no difficulty using it. The academy techniques prove that."
Reiji frowned.
"Then why does this fail?"
Fugaku watched the chakra flow once more before answering.
"Because when you attempt the transformation… your chakra never leaves your body."
Reiji blinked.
"That doesn't make sense."
"No," Fugaku agreed calmly. "It doesn't."
For a moment he remained silent, the tomoe in his eyes turning slowly as he observed the strange behavior of the chakra once more.
Finally he deactivated the Sharingan.
"I do not know why it happens," he admitted. "But your chakra behaves… differently."