Life continued. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months.
Before I realized it, six months had passed since I joined the Academy.
Every week, we had taijutsu sparring. And I had won every single one of my matches. There were only two people I had not fought yet who stood even a small chance of beating me.
Hinata.
And Sasuke.
Based on wins, the current taijutsu ranking looked like this,
First - Hinata.
Second - Me.
Third - Sasuke.
Fourth - Chōji.
Fifth - Kiba.
Sixth - Shino.
Seventh - Ino.
Eighth - Shikamaru.
After that came the civilian students. Sakura ranked somewhere in the middle of them.
The ranking was simple.
Wins and losses.
I had never lost.
But I had also never fought Sasuke.
Sasuke had fought Hinata once.
That match….that was a real fight.
Not a one-sided spar. Both of them fought seriously.
No holding back. Sasuke was sharp and precise. Hinata was fast and ruthless.
In the end, Hinata won..
Meanwhile, I had fought every clan heir except Sasuke and Hinata.
And I had won every time.
Still, I knew something. Sooner or later, I would have to face them. That was why I had increased my training during the last few months.
I pushed harder.
Ran longer.
Hit harder.
Three months ago, I started wearing weighted bands on my wrists and ankles. At first, they felt heavy and annoying.
Now, they felt normal.
The only place I did not wear them was inside the Academy. Everywhere else, training ground, library, home.
Even while sleeping.
My body slowly adapted. My movements became sharper when I removed them.
I also started conditioning my body.
Punching and kicking tree trunks. At first, I wanted to use a punching bag.
But hitting a tree felt more real and painful.
And pain builds durability.
In the beginning, it was rough. My knuckles split open. My shins bruised badly.
There was blood.
A lot of blood.
But I healed fast. Faster than normal.
After a while, the pain became familiar then manageable.
Then almost enjoyable.
Each strike became harder, cleaner and stronger.
I even started wrapping white bandages around my hands and forearms.
Partly for protection.
Partly because it looked cool.
Now when I looked at myself in the mirror,
Red hair.
Violet eyes.
Bandaged fists.
I didn't look like a weak orphan anymore.
Aside from taijutsu, I had improved in other areas too. My Body Flicker had become much smoother.
Not perfect, but controlled.
I could now burst forward without crashing most of the time and my tree walking had improved a lot.
Though honestly, I don't know why it's called tree walking.
You can stick to walls.
Roofs.
Even ceilings.
It should just be called surface walking.
These days, I rarely use the road to go to the Academy. Instead, I move across rooftops using Body Flicker.
Jump.
Burst.
Land.
Balance.
If I lose my footing, I instantly channel chakra to my feet and stick to the surface.
It feels natural now.
Like my body understands it without thinking.
It's faster.
More fun.
And much cooler.
My throwing skills also improved. At first, I could barely hit the board. Now, I hit the target every time. Not always center but I hit it and that alone is progress.
As for Weapon Construct, there hasn't been much growth. I simply don't have enough time to refine it deeply.
I can create chakra kunai, senbon, and shuriken reliably, i can do my claws but haven't had much time to practice them, to perfect them.
I really can't wait to learn the Shadow Clone Jutsu. that will change everything. Imagine training with ten clones at once or twenty or hundred or THOUSAND!
Ahem, what I mean to say is my growth would multiply instantly.
For now, I have to rely on hard work.
Recently, Ikuta-sensei began teaching us hand signs.
The twelve basic ones.
Rat.
Ox.
Tiger.
And the rest.
He explained how hand signs help guide chakra flow.
They create structure.
They make chakra molding easier and more stable.
Many of the clan kids looked bored.
Distracted.
They had probably learned these at home long before joining the Academy.
But I paid attention carefully.
Ikuta-sensei stressed something important.
"If your foundation is weak, your jutsu will fail," he said.
"Learn the hand signs properly."
He told us to practice at home.
And I did.
Every night.
I practiced forming the signs smoothly.
Faster.
Cleaner.
No hesitation between them.
And I have to admit, using hand signs improved my chakra molding.
It became more efficient.
More controlled and faster.
Even my Weapon Construct felt more stable when I used proper hand flow before shaping it.
At night, my routine is simple. Hand sign practice. Then meditation for one hour. Then sleep.
It has been six months since I started meditating regularly but I still have not entered my inner world. I have not seen the Nine-Tails.
No red eyes.
No massive fox.
Nothing.
Maybe I'm not ready or maybe I'm doing something wrong.
Still, I am not in a hurry to meet the big guy.
It's not like the Nine-Tails is going anywhere. He's sealed inside me.
And when the time comes, we will meet.
—
The night air was quiet above the Uchiha compound.
Two boys sat facing each other across a low wooden table, too young for the weight pressing on their shoulders, yet already burdened with it.
Shisui Uchiha leaned back on one hand, the other resting over his closed eye. His expression, usually bright and carefree, was sharpened by thought.
Across from him, Itachi Uchiha sat perfectly straight. Eleven years old. ANBU captain. Child.
For a while, neither spoke.
Beyond the walls, the compound slept.
Shisui finally broke the silence.
"We're running out of time."
His voice was quiet, but it carried urgency. Itachi's dark eyes lifted. "Father has already gathered the clan leaders twice this week."
Shisui nodded once. "The police force is restless. They believe the village will never trust us. They think a coup is the only way to reclaim honor."
Itachi's gaze lowered slightly. "And if they act… it will lead to civil war."
A heavy silence followed.
Shisui closed his visible eye and exhaled slowly.
"There is one option."
Itachi didn't move, but something in his gaze sharpened.
Shisui opened his eye again.
"Kotoamatsukami."
The word lingered in the air like a forbidden seal.
Itachi did not react immediately. He simply watched Shisui carefully.
"I could use it on your father," Shisui continued. "Alter his intent. Subtly. Make him abandon the coup before it reaches ignition. No one would know. He would believe the decision was his own."
The confidence in Shisui's tone was not arrogance. It was certainty. His Mangekyō was built for this.
For peace.
Itachi's fingers tightened slightly against his knee.
"If Father withdraws," Itachi said slowly, "would the clan follow?"
Shisui hesitated.
"Fugaku is respected."
"He is respected," Itachi agreed. "But this is not his will alone."
The candle flame flickered between them.
"The elders within the police force, Yashiro, Tekka, Inabi, they push this as strongly as Father does," Itachi continued. "Some more."
Shisui's expression grew thoughtful.
"If Father backs down," Itachi said quietly, "they may see it as weakness. Or betrayal."
"And then they would pressure him again," Shisui finished.
Itachi nodded once.
"Using Kotoamatsukami on Father may delay the coup," he said. "But it may not end it."
Shisui leaned forward now, elbows on the table.
"What are you suggesting?" he asked.
Itachi's gaze was steady, far older than eleven.
"If we alter Father alone, we treat the symptom."
"And the disease?" Shisui asked gently.
"The clan's resentment."
The word hung heavy.
Shisui's jaw tightened slightly. He could not deny it. The Uchiha had been isolated, watched, distrusted since the Nine-Tails attack. Pride had turned to bitterness. Bitterness had turned to resolve.
"They feel cornered," Itachi said. "And cornered people strike."
Shisui gave a faint, humorless smile. "You speak like a Hokage already."
Itachi did not smile back.
"I want to protect the clan," he said quietly. "But I also want to protect the village."
"And the two paths are colliding."
"Yes."
The candle crackled softly.
Shisui looked toward the window, where the moonlight traced the compound rooftops.
"If I could cast Kotoamatsukami over the entire clan council…" he murmured.
"You cannot," Itachi said gently. "Even if you could, influencing so many would be noticed."
Shisui's eye flickered slightly at that. He knew Itachi was right.
Kotoamatsukami was subtle. Perfect.
But not limitless.
"And even if we changed their minds," Itachi continued, "it would not change the village's distrust. The root problem would remain."
Shisui watched him carefully now.
"You've thought about this deeply."
"I have to."
The quiet answer held no arrogance. Only acceptance.
Shisui leaned back again, crossing his arms.
"So," he said, "we need something greater than a genjutsu."
"Yes."
"Something that changes the political balance."
"Yes."
Shisui exhaled through his nose.
"Negotiation?"
Itachi shook his head faintly. "The Third wishes for peace. But the elders do not trust the Uchiha. And the clan does not trust them."
"A stalemate."
"Yes."
The silence deepened again.
Crickets sang faintly outside.
Itachi's fingers drummed once against his arm. "If Father could be convinced genuinely…"
"Not through genjutsu," Shisui said.
"No."
Shisui studied him.
"You believe he can be reasoned with?"
Itachi did not answer immediately.
"I believe," he said at last, "that Father loves the clan."
"That much is certain."
"And he loves the village," Itachi added quietly. "In his own way."
Shisui's brow lifted slightly.
"That's a dangerous amount of faith."
"It is," Itachi agreed. "But if we use Kotoamatsukami and he ever learns of it…"
Shisui's expression darkened.
"The trust between father and son would be broken forever," Itachi finished.
The words settled heavily between them.
Shisui looked at the boy in front of him, at the calm composure that hid impossible chaos.
"You're asking for a harder path," Shisui said softly.
"Yes."
Shisui gave a small, crooked smile.
"Of course you are."
He stood, walking toward the open window. The night breeze stirred his hair.
"I wanted to end it quickly," he admitted. "One clean cut. No one hurt."
Itachi joined him at the window, smaller but just as still.
"If we force peace through illusion," Itachi said, "is it truly peace?"
Shisui chuckled quietly.
"You really are dangerous, Itachi."
Itachi's eyes reflected the moon.
"If we fail," he said, "many will die."
"Yes."
"If we act too hastily," Itachi continued, "many will die."
"Yes."
Shisui's voice lost its lightness.
"So what do you propose?"
Itachi's gaze hardened with quiet resolve.
"We need to weaken the desire for the coup from within. Divide the most radical voices. Gather information. Buy time."
"And speak to your father?"
"Yes."
Shisui studied him for a long moment.
"That conversation could go poorly."
"I know."
"You may be forced to choose sides."
Itachi did not flinch.
"I have already chosen."
Shisui's eye widened slightly.
"The village?" he asked softly.
Itachi's answer was almost inaudible.
"Peace."
The wind moved gently through the room.
For a long moment, Shisui said nothing.
Then he reached out and placed a hand on Itachi's shoulder.
"You're too young for this."
"So are you."
Shisui laughed quietly.
"Fair."
He withdrew his hand and straightened.
"Alright," he said. "We hold Kotoamatsukami in reserve."
Itachi nodded.
"A last resort."
"Yes."
Shisui's expression turned resolute.
"We monitor the clan leaders. We try to steer things away from open rebellion."
"And if it fails?" Itachi asked.
Shisui looked back at the moonlit compound.
"If it fails… then we reconsider every option."
Itachi understood the weight behind those words.
Including the one they had just set aside.
For now.
The candle flame sputtered and went out, leaving only moonlight.
Two prodigies stood in the quiet darkness, children planning to prevent a war that adults had already set in motion.
Neither knew how close the storm truly was.
But for this moment, they chose the harder path.
Not control, not illusion but hope.