Akira Uchiha — POV
The first true woe of winter came with the death of Mito Uzumaki.
Wife of the First Hokage.
Jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails.
After that, nothing quite felt the same.
Kushina Uzumaki didn't return to the Academy for another two weeks. When she finally did, she wasn't alone. Her usual fire was dimmed, her smile strained, and scattered across the Academy rooftops and courtyards were ANBU. Seven of them, positioned with quiet precision, watching everything and everyone.
Our gang did what we always did when things felt wrong.
We sang.
Afterward, I organized everyone to reintroduce themselves, one by one. Kushina stared at me like I'd lost my mind.
"I didn't lose my memory, Akira-kun."
"I'm relieved," I replied easily. "For a moment, I thought you'd forgotten all of us."
She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth lifted. A win.
I wondered, briefly, if Kurama, the fox sealed inside her, appreciated the introduction too.
The funeral for Mito Uzumaki was held soon after. Lord Hokage commissioned me to sing.
I let a certain legendary musician possess me.
---
Goodbye, Rose of Konoha
May you ever grow in our hearts
You were the grace that placed itself
Where lives were torn apart
You called out to our village
And whispered to those in pain
Now you belong to heaven
And the stars spell out your name
And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind
Never fading with the sunset
When the rain
_______
It was… awkward being hugged and kissed by a crying Tsunade.
I survived it with dignity. Barely.
The true suffering, however, came from Jiraiya.
He wanted me to teach him guitar.
For a man known as the Toad Summoner, this was tragically appropriate. Even his singing voice sounded like a toad being stepped on in slow motion. I briefly considered whether this qualified as psychological warfare.
After Mito Uzumaki's death, I could feel the shift in the village. It wasn't dramatic, not outwardly. It was subtler than that. Shopkeepers smiled less. Academy teachers watched more closely. Conversations lowered their voices. Konoha was holding its breath.
Two weeks later, the announcement came.
Early graduation.
The teams were assigned soon after.
I was placed in Team 7.
Jōnin Commander: Orochimaru.
Teammates: Nawaki Senju, Nono Yakushi… and myself.
Minato landed in Team 6, alongside Mikoto Uchiha, Kushina Uzumaki, and Hiashi Hyūga. Their leader was Jiraiya.
Team 3 was the classic formation.
Ino–Shika–Chō, under Tsunade.
Team 8 belonged to Sakumo Hatake.
Tsume Inuzuka, Hizashi Hyūga, and Shibi Aburame.
Only Jiraiya's team had four members.
Apparently, Kushina had demanded to graduate alongside her friends. The Hokage agreed but very deliberately placed her under Jiraiya instead of Orochimaru.
I suspected the reason.
The Hokage didn't want Kushina falling for me.
It had to be Minato.
I didn't mind. I was rooting for them anyway.
I like to think of myself as a blend of Severus Snape and Sirius Black.
Strict where it mattered. Reckless where it amused me.
Seriously Snappy Severely Black.
It was also my suggestion, during the mid-year exams, that Nono Yakushi be assigned to Orochimaru's team… specifically my team.
I had always found her story tragic. If I could nudge fate even a little, I would.
Perhaps this would steer her away from her original ending.
Then there was Nawaki Senju.
The highest-grade calamity imaginable.
He possessed infinite energy, catastrophic judgment, and a supernatural talent for finding trouble. He was, quite simply, a walking death flag wearing a Senju smile.
For the past few weeks, we'd been training together.
I may have introduced chili bombs, dung bombs, itching powder traps, and a variety of creatively sadistic pitfalls into his daily routine.
Now, before even going to the toilet, Nawaki sends in a shadow clone first.
I suspect I may have traumatized him.
Collateral damage.
Nono, on the other hand, was calm, kind, and genuinely good-hearted. She balanced the team far better than any tactical formation ever could.
I even volunteered to visit orphanages with her, singing for the children.
If the world was determined to harden us early, then I'd make sure it didn't succeed completely.
Not yet.
As if obeying some grim schedule, war followed soon after.
Sunagakure declared war on Amegakure and Konoha.
Amegakure declared war on Sunagakure.
Then Iwagakure declared war on Amegakure and Konoha.
At least, that's what reached our ears.
In the middle of this escalating madness, time still insisted on moving forward.
I had my birthday. Apparently, Akira Uchiha was ten years old now.
A week later, it was Nawaki's birthday.
He turned twelve.
And he received the necklace of the First Hokage.
I didn't like that.
Nawaki was twelve. Nono and I were ten. And shortly after, we were assigned a mission to the Land of Rivers. Intelligence suggested that Sunagakure was preparing an attack. Our role was simple. Escort and supply support.
I knew what was coming.
And this time, I was prepared.
Ever since graduation, I pushed myself relentlessly. Through trial, error, and more chakra exhaustion than I cared to admit, I refined the Rasengan beyond its original form.
The results spoke for themselves, I successfully replicated future rasengan moves.
The Vanishing Rasengan.
The Wind Release: Rasengan.
I handed both techniques to the village.
In return, I asked for three things.
The first was Super Beast Imitating Drawing, which I gave to Nono. It suited her far better than seals and scalpels ever could.
The second was permission to teach Rasengan to Nawaki. That, in hindsight, may have been a mistake. He now throws Rasengan and Shadow Clones at anything that moves.
Sometimes at things that don't.
The third was access to the Rashōmon Summoning.
That request raised more than a few eyebrows.
When asked why, I answered simply.
"I have no true defensive techniques," I explained. "If I face a wide-area or high-speed ranged attack, dodging won't always be an option. I need something absolute. Something that can stand between me and destruction."
It was a reasonable argument.
A careful one.
After some deliberation, approval was granted.
To improve my approval chaces though, during lab sessions, I went further.
I proposed a theory.
That Wood Release was not merely a kekkei genkai, but a proto–kekkei tōta. A fusion born from Yang chakra, Water, and Earth.
And that the Sharingan itself was not a bloodline miracle, but a kekkei genkai born from the precise interaction of Yin and Yang chakra.
The Senju, I argued, possessed overwhelming Yang.
The Uchiha, overwhelming Yin.
For a dōjutsu to awaken, one must force a specific balance of Yin and Yang chakra through the optic nerve. The ancestors of the Uchiha may have done so deliberately. The method, however, was lost… or erased.
Later generations discovered that emotional upheaval could substitute for technique.
A flawed shortcut.
With consequences.
I mixed truth with myth.
Just enough.
The Hokage listened.
Danzō leaned forward.
Their factions became very interested.
The last I heard, Danzō had already dispatched ROOT operatives to scour the continent for Yin–Yang manipulation techniques.
That indeed brought a smile to my face.
Orochimaru-sensei handed Nono the scroll for Super Beast Imitating Drawing himself.
I'd deliberately avoided doing it.
If I had, it might have given her the wrong idea. I had no intention of flirting with a teammate, especially one whose kindness deserved better than misunderstandings. Thankfully, Nono took it exactly as it was meant to be.
She was already decent at drawing.
With the aggressive application of Shadow Clones, she progressed rapidly. Within weeks, she wasn't just competent. She was reliable. The jutsu obeyed her hand as naturally as breathing.
At the moment, Orochimaru-sensei and Team 7 were standing atop one of her creations.
A massive ink bird.
We were en route to the Land of Rivers.
Traveling by ink bird was… unique.
Efficient during the day. Miserable at night.
Cold winds cut through us relentlessly, and once night fell, flying became nearly impossible. Heavy gusts threatened balance, stability, and comfort in equal measure.
Then the wind changed.
Not natural.
A violent gust slammed into the bird, immediately followed by a wave of fire.
"Enemy attack!" Nawaki shouted, sounding more excited than alarmed.
Of course he was.
"Use clones," I snapped. "This area is likely rigged with explosive tags."
I watched the terrain carefully. The pattern of the wind. The angle of the flames.
"Cover your entire body with chakra," I added. "If you forget and get blown apart, I'll throw chili powder bombs at what's left. Just in case."
That got his attention.
The ink bird shuddered as Nono adjusted her control, reinforcing its wings. Orochimaru-sensei said nothing, golden eyes already tracking the source of the attack.
Good.
This wasn't an ambush meant to kill.
It was a test.
And someone was about to learn exactly how prepared we were.
"Sensei," I said quietly, "why don't we pretend we've crashed? We hide, then ambush whoever comes to investigate."
Orochimaru-sensei's lips curved slightly.
"A good idea, Akira-kun."
His gaze slid to Nono. She understood immediately.
When the next attack came, Nono deliberately destabilized the ink bird. Its wings dipped, spiraling just enough to sell the illusion. Smoke, scattered feathers of ink, a hard landing.
A convincing crash.
"Akira-kun," Orochimaru said calmly, "you lead today."
He had already sensed them. I was certain of it.
I nodded.
"Nawaki, create ten shadow clones. Bury these seals in a hundred-meter radius from the crash site. Nono, create multiple black rats and crows. Scatter them wide."
I crouched lower, tracing a quick diagram in the dirt.
"As soon as we crash, the three of us go underground. When the enemy appears, Nawaki, you'll lure them. Engage, bait, retreat."
I fixed him with a look.
"Keep your real body close to me. I don't want to trigger a seal on you by mistake."
I inhaled slowly.
"There are many enemies. We are three. We even the numbers first."
"Do you copy?"
"Hai!" they replied in unison.
I was a sensor. I had the Sharingan. Strictly speaking, this level of redundancy wasn't necessary.
But battlefields punish assumptions.
Especially the arrogant ones.
We hit the ground.
The moment we did, Orochimaru-sensei vanished.
We took our positions.
Nono and Nawaki moved immediately. Within moments, I felt it. Multiple enemy units. Several squads. Some cautious, some confident. All converging.
Roughly within a two-kilometer radius.
Nawaki engaged first, loud and obvious. Just reckless enough to be believable.
Only three squads took the bait.
Good.
As they pushed deeper into our zone, I triggered the traps.
The air exploded with chili powder and itching agents. Screams followed, curses, coughing, disorientation. While they staggered, I began to whistle.
Soft. Precise.
A sound-based genjutsu I had perfected.
To them, the battlefield warped. Shadows moved. Ghosts lunged. Allies turned into enemies. Panic did the rest.
Nawaki and I moved cleanly.
Efficiently.
Minutes later, silence returned.
"Nawaki," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "good job. Without you, this mission would've failed."
He grinned, rubbing the back of his head.
"Nono," I continued, "send tigers, rats and foxes to three o'clock and four o'clock. There are squads waiting there, likely preparing an ambush. Trigger any explosive traps they've laid. They're about one to two kilometers out."
She nodded and formed seals.
"Nawaki," I added, "send the rest of your clones to nine o'clock and one o'clock. Same routine. Shadow clones, chili bombs, dung bombs, retreat."
I paused, then smiled faintly.
"And mix in a few grenades. Keep things interesting."
"If they stop chasing, bait them again. We pull them into our zone."
"Do you copy?"
"Hai!"
"Hai!"
I straightened, Sharingan scanning the terrain.
Sunagakure… or whoever they really were.
They were going to regret setting foot in the Land of Rivers.