The reason for Uchiha Obito's predicament was simple.
His core and leg strength were too weak.
He clearly had enough chakra to stick himself firmly to the tree trunk—
Yet he couldn't straighten his body.
Even a street acrobat could do that.
Yoru knew Obito's fundamentals were poor, but he never expected them to be this bad—
Not even comparable to four- or five-year-old children in the clan.
Embarrassing.
Even someone like Yoru, who had little sense of clan pride, felt his face burn.
Fortunately, his composure was steady and his skin thick enough.
He suppressed the awkwardness, let out a long sigh, and said:
"No choice. You'll start from basic physical training."
"Pull-ups, straight-leg crunches, inverted sit-ups."
"Start with these three."
Obito immediately protested:
"That's stuff for little kids! I'm a genin—"
Yoru sneered.
"A genin worse than children. First time I've seen one."
"…!"
Obito instantly fell silent.
"And stop talking about awakening the Sharingan."
"The Sharingan is powerful, yes—but it's only an aid. Dynamic vision, genjutsu, copying movements."
"It still depends on your physical foundation."
"If it could do everything, other ninja wouldn't exist."
"With your current physique?"
"Even if you awaken it, you won't be able to use it properly."
"You'll only ruin its reputation."
Those harsh words hit like a hammer.
Obito's face turned pale.
The last traces of his luck-based optimism shattered completely.
This time—
He didn't argue.
He obediently began training.
"I don't care what you've done before," Yoru said coldly. "But any debt must be repaid with effort. Double the effort."
"Each movement—ten reps per set."
"Ten sets. Rotate."
"You only rest after completing all of them."
"And during rest—plank."
"That counts as rest."
Obito's face turned ashen.
"…D-devil…"
Yoru ignored him.
With the biggest troublemaker subdued, the other two obedient ones only needed a glance from him to start training seriously, not daring to slack off at all.
A small weight landed on Yoru's shoulder.
Miwa Masayo had appeared silently.
"I thought you said you wanted to build a good relationship with him," she whispered. "Why are you being so strict?"
"I am treating him well," Yoru replied calmly. "What does attitude have to do with that?"
"Aren't you afraid he'll hate you? That it'll backfire?"
"Heh. That idiom fits perfectly."
"Relax. Uchiha Obito isn't ordinary. His talent is actually very good."
"…Meow?"
Masayo glanced at Obito—
Grinding his teeth, face pale, legs trembling like he might collapse any second.
Where was the "talent" in that?
Yoru subtly revealed his Sharingan beneath a genjutsu concealment and said quietly:
"I used to think he was just useless with good ocular talent."
"But now I understand."
"His physical potential is outstanding."
"No wonder someone chose him."
"The Sharingan doesn't bloom on rotten soil."
"Masayo, watch him carefully. Compare each set. Look closely."
Masayo focused.
After observing three consecutive sets—
Her expression changed.
Each set…
Was better than the last.
Her gaze sharpened instantly.
"Yoru… now I believe it. He's a delayed genius."
"…Should we kill him?"
Yoru shook his head.
"No."
"The root of the problem isn't him."
"Removing him now changes nothing. Someone else will be chosen."
"We have to wait."
"Wait until everything begins—then push it slightly."
"Let it collapse on its own."
He paused, then sighed softly.
"This world is deep."
"Death isn't always the end."
"If necessary… even the dead can return."
"I can't afford to act recklessly."
"I need everyone to believe that—even if I kill him—"
"I was the one who treated him best."
"Even he must acknowledge it."
Masayo: "..."
Yoru blinked.
"What's wrong, Rika-chan?"
Masayo slowly closed her open mouth.
"…Call me whatever you want."
"But promise me something."
"You won't scheme against me."
"I'm scared…"
Yoru paused.
Then he realized—
His words had genuinely frightened her.
He quickly softened his tone.
"Don't worry."
"Between us—what's there to fear?"
"I'd rather hurt myself than let anything happen to you."
"…I hope so."
"…Wait."
"You've pulled my fur before!"
"And my whiskers!"
"And even my eyebrows!"
"And why didn't you say stab? You always said stabbing hurts more than slashing!"
Less than a minute later—
She was back to normal.
Laughing, arguing, completely forgetting the fear from before.
So simple.
So pure.
Like clear mountain snowmelt.
Impossible not to care for.
Their banter eased Yoru's stern presence.
The oppressive atmosphere on the training field lightened.
The three genin subconsciously relaxed.
"Obito! Slacking. Add three more sets."
"Wha—no!!"
"Talk back again, and I'll make it five."
The pressure snapped back instantly.
The training atmosphere remained strict—optimal.
Obito's talent was real.
But his mind…
Was a disaster.
No matter how closely Yoru watched—
No matter how harsh the punishment—
His attention drifted constantly.
Like a kite with a broken string.
At most five minutes—
Then he'd forget everything and slack off.
Yoru even suspected—
If Obito's inner "mind monkey" manifested—
It would be a wild, uncontrollable beast.
Untamable.
Until dusk—
Yoru finally found the key.
Collective punishment.
If Obito made a mistake—
Rin suffered too.
Instantly—
His wandering mind stabilized.
He focused.
His movements became precise.
And his potential—
Exploded.
The difference was obvious.
The other two—
After finishing training, resting, and eating—
Collapsed after just a few extra sets.
But Obito—
Who had no rest, no lunch, no dinner—
Completed everything.
His body trembled—
But he was still standing.
Yoru and Masayo exchanged a look.
Complicated.
"Training ends here. Go take a hot bath."
"Yes~!" ×3
"Don't slack off. Or tomorrow morning will be worse."
"And don't be late."
Rin suddenly smiled.
"If one is late, the whole team gets punished."
Yoru chuckled.
"Exactly."
"Dismissed."
"Yes!" ×3
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