Chapter 38: October 19th
Chapter 38: October 19th
[A/N] 5938 words.
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I stood, locked in a stare that seemed to swallow light itself.
"Um... yes?" I asked, lifting one eyebrow slightly.
Normally, I wouldn't wait for a response from a previous... hmm. Antagonist? Nemisis-in-his-own-mind? Honestly, I don't know how to categorize him now.
Kiburi peered down at me, his dark Uchiha eyes offering nothing but silence.
It was our first formal contact since that day almost a month ago. He'd avoided me since—whether it was subconscious or completely intentional, only he knew. Either way, the air between us now felt tense enough to cut with a kunai.
Beside me, Shisui sighed, slinging his backpack lazily over one shoulder. His gaze flicked between Kiburi and me like he was just waiting for whatever drama was about to unfold to hurry up and be done with.
Finally, Kiburi spoke. "I let you beat me."
I paused, the words hanging in the air for a second longer than they needed to before it clicked.
"Ah," I said, lips pursed as I gave a small nod. "I see." Not quite the icebreaker I was expecting, but I guess we were doing this now.
"It won't happen again." He replied, face as serious as a ten-year-old could manage—which, honestly, was saying something.
He held my gaze for a second longer like he was trying to make sure the message landed, then his eyes flicked to Shisui. After a brief once-over, Kiburi turned on his heel and strode out of the classroom.
It felt almost cinematic. Like a rival's formal declaration of vengeance in some grand epic—but more anti-climatic and without the Hollywood budget.
I guess I should just be glad he wasn't passing out at the sight of me anymore. Small victories.
"Hm," I hummed, resting a hand on my chin as we began walking. "That went a little differently than I expected."
"What did you expect?" Shisui asked, falling into step beside me as the other students filed out of the academy. "A kiss?"
I nearly nodded in approval, ready to give him credit for the quip, but caught myself. There was no way I was giving him that satisfaction.
"Not quite," I said, pushing the academy's worn-out door open as Shisui nudged it with his shoulder. "Something less intimate and more painful. Like a punch to the face."
The door creaked open, letting in a flood of late afternoon light that spilled into the worn hall behind us. Crisp autumn air brushed against our cheeks, carrying the faint scent of leaves and distant grilled fish.
Outside, October's sunlight sharpened everything—the color of the village grew richer, the shadows stretched longer, and the cool breeze felt alive with the energy of the season. Students scattered across the yard—some laughing, others racing off to meet friends.
Even with the quiet reminder that war raged just beyond Konohagakure's imposing walls, the scene before us felt... peaceful. Almost as if the world hadn't yet figured out how to touch this little slice of the village.
"You won't have to wait too long for that," Shisui said matter-of-factly, breaking my thoughts.
I turned to him as a pen appeared in his free hand, twirling fluidly around his fingers with nothing but chakra. He didn't even look at it anymore; the movements were so smooth that they seemed second nature. It took him a month to master, but now, he could spin that pen around his fingers like a pro whenever he felt like it.
He'd make for a pretty good magician if he ever decided to give up being a ninja.
Well... most shinobi would, so...
"You say that like you know something," I said, raising an eyebrow.
I do," Shisui replied, slipping the pen into his pocket. "He told me the other day. Thinks of you as his rival or something."
A laugh almost escaped me, but I caught it before it could slip past my lips. Kiburi was talented—I'd give him that. But rival? No shot. Not even close.
"Hmm," I said, trying to sound thoughtful as I bumped my shoulder lightly against Shisui's. "That's sweet of him. But the only rival I have is standing right here."
"Please." Shisui scoffed, shoving me away.
I laughed at his immediate dismissal. "What's the matter? Afraid to admit it?"
"I'm not interested," he deadpanned.
I narrowed my eyes at him, skeptical. If our training sessions told me anything, it was that Shisui was secretly very competitive. He didn't show it visibly, but he'd give his all to beat me in everything.
But today, I decided to give him a break.
"Why'd you think Zucchan wasn't here?" I asked, smoothly changing the subject.
Zucchan—a little nickname I've graciously bestowed upon Shizune. She hated it, obviously (well, secretly loved it, but you know how it goes with kids). Either way, Zucchan she stayed.
"Same reason, you think," Shisui replied, his tone easy as we wound through Konoha's familiar streets.
Our shoes crunched against the cobbled stone pathways, the sound blending with the soft hum of village life.
Around us, villagers walked briskly, bundled in layered kimonos under short cloaks. Wool hats shielded their ears from the cool air, and faint wisps of breath ghosted in the fading sunlight.
I nodded thoughtfully. Even if neither of us said it aloud, the answer was obvious.
I lifted my gaze to the drifting clouds floating in pastel blue above. "Think they know we know?"
Shisui's eyes followed mine, catching on a cloud shaped vaguely like Peppa Pig, but less pink and decidedly more white.
"Yeah, I do," he said, adjusting his backpack strap. I had to agree with him. If we were, quote-unquote, regular children, we'd be none the wiser to their schemes and plots.
We passed a dango stand. The sweet smell of soy glaze drifted over. I glanced at the small line of customers—children and adults chatting away. Shizune, Shisui, and I had come here a few times; the food was decent enough.
If I had to guess, this was probably one of those places Itachi frequented in the anime. It just had that vibe.
"I'm sure they put a lot of effort into preparing," I said, tilting my head thoughtfully. Turning to Shisui, I added with a small grin, "Are you a good actor? We need to look surprised when we walk in."
Shisui didn't miss a beat. "I act like I like you every day."
That lie made me smile.
I caught the subtle shift in his expression and knew an eye-roll was coming, but I cut him off before he could. "Thanks for being my friend, Shisui."
He stilled for just a moment, the sound of his small footsteps faltering. I kept walking; hands clasped behind my back, the smile still very much present on my face.
His voice and the pitter-patter of his tiny feet followed behind me, uncertain. "... What are you doing?"
"I mean it. I'm glad I met you," I said, my tone sincere. "And I'm glad we're friends."
"Right..." Shisui replied, now walking at my side. His eyebrows were slightly raised, his face carrying the unmistakable look of someone trying to figure out if I'd finally lost my mind.
His skepticism was understandable. I wasn't exactly the most serious person on the best of days, but meeting Shisui had been... nice. He was a good kid—too good, really.
The kind of person who always meant well, always tried to do the right thing, and who ultimately just wanted a world filled with peace and good food. Honestly, same.
"I'm serious," I continued, glancing at him. "We have a lot of the same interests, we get along well, and we're even born on the same day. It's like we were destined to be best friends. Don't you think?"
He studied my face carefully, searching for even the faintest hint of a joke. When he didn't find one, he said with the utmost seriousness, "No."
I ignored the jab and stopped in my tracks, forcing him to do the same. The late afternoon sunlight slanted between us, dust motes drifting lazily in the air.
"Let's make a vow," I said, clasping my hands behind my back once again.
Shisui groaned audibly, his head tilting back as if the sky might save him. "Satoshi, no."
"I'm serious," I insisted. "Let's vow to stay best friends and work together to achieve our dreams. To bring peace to the world."
He raised an eyebrow, looking at me like I'd just suggested something completely absurd. "You think that's possible? That just us two can bring peace to the world?"
"First," I said, holding up a finger, "I know for a fact it's possible. Have you forgotten who I am? I'm Satoshi Yama—wait, wait, I'll be serious."
He stopped walking and turned back to me; his brow furrowed as if waiting for me to finally make sense.
I cleared my throat and started again. Not that I wasn't serious the first time. "I was halfway kidding, but yes, Shisui, we can bring peace to the world."
He opened his mouth to argue, but I raised a second finger to cut him off.
"Second, it's not going to just be us. It'll take a lot of people. It'll be hard, and we'll have to get pretty strong—y'know, to force people to do our bidding and stuff." He didn't laugh at my joke—Shisui didn't have the best sense of humor, so it was to be expected. "But it's possible. And we can achieve it."
I extended my fist toward him. "That, I promise. So, what do you say? Wanna bring peace to the world—together, with me?"
He stared at me, his eyes traveling from my face to my outstretched fist, his expression unreadable. After a long moment, he said, "We're five, Satoshi."
"Actually, we're six," I corrected, lowering my fist slightly. "And that means we have plenty of time to get started. And you're supposed to bump your fist with mine. It seals the vow like a promise. A fist-bump promise."
Shisui paused, his hand hovering near his side. He was probably calculating his odds of using genjutsu to escape. But, after a moment—and probably realizing escape was highly unlikely—he sighed and raised his fist.
His knuckles met mine softly, and for a moment, we stood there in the leaf-strewn street, connected by something as fragile and powerful as a single fist-bump promise.
Corny? Maybe to people without vision—or friends. But for those who know what really matters, it was poetic (dare I say Shakespearean-level poetic minus the poison, betrayal... and death) and the start of something special.
I couldn't hide the smile tugging at my mouth. "Great," I said. "Now you're stuck with me like white on rice."
"I knew it," Shisui grumbled.
He tried to pull his hand away, but I used chakra to hold our little knuckles in place.
His free hand lifted into what looked to have the potential to be quite the powerful six-year-old Uchiha punch, so I aptly canceled the chakra flow to my hand and hopped away.
He nodded, pleased, as if that gesture solidified the fact that his punches were, without a doubt, scary.
I grinned, giving him this win.
He turned, continuing his trek to my house, but as his face left my view, I saw it—the almost imperceptible upturn at the corner of his lips. A smile he failed to hide from little ole' me.
Looks like he felt the feels, too.
We continued walking, our footsteps echoing down the quiet lanes of Konoha as the shadows stretched longer and the air grew cooler. The streets were mostly empty now, save for the rustling of leaves caught in the wind.
When we finally reached my home, the desolate pathway was silent—except for the wind shifting around one... two... three... twelve bodies moving inside the house.
I glanced at Shisui, sending a quick thought his way. [Well, there's one more than I expected.]
He tilted his head slightly, acknowledging my silent message without a word.
Taking a breath, I reached for the front door and pushed it open.
"Happy Birthday, Satoshi and Shisui!"
The out-of-sync shout erupted from inside, loud enough to rattle my senses.
I blinked, momentarily blinded as a cascade of confetti rained down from above, catching in my curls and drifting lazily to the floor.
Blood-red balloons bobbed against the ceiling, and colorful streamers dangled in the light of the entryway.
I had to do a double-take. The room was so red that it felt like I had stepped into the fiery pits of hell.
My parents stood grinning ear to ear near the doorway, clearly pleased with themselves.
Shikaku, beside his wife, Yoshino, casually released another handful of sparkly confetti into the air with his natural Nara nonchalance.
Chōza and his wife were nearby, both visibly excited, blowing party horns that were a little too loud for my taste. Still, it was a nice gesture, so I smiled and gave them a small wave.
Nao, Akira, Haruto, and Masaru huddled together near a low table while—unexpectedly, might I add—an Uchiha elder I'd seen only once before stood against the far wall with his dark, judgy eyes roaming across my body as he'd once before did.
I resisted the urge to shiver. Someone needed to tell this man his intense stares were less "wise elder" and more "creepy and borderline illegal."
Shisui's back straightened ever so slightly when he noticed him.
My eyes trailed to the body standing beside the Uchiha elder—Shisui's mother.
She was striking, with bone-straight black hair that fell to the middle of her back, like ink spilled over parchment. Her eyes were as dark as midnight, but unlike most Uchiha, her skin carried a subtle golden undertone, instead of their signature vampire pasty white. She wore a simple kimono, understated but elegant, and her smile was soft and warm.
I smiled and gave her a wave. I'd met her plenty of times in the past few weeks.
She'd come over once to pick up Shisui, and after meeting my mom, the two had become inseparable. It was a bond forged over the simplest things: their love for their children, gardening, and a little gossip.
They were two unlikely peas in a pod forging a beautiful sisterly bond. One was a quiet ambivert who preferred being in the background, while the other was fully an extrovert who wasn't afraid of a little attention. They melded like yin and yang.
It was nice seeing our moms hang out together.
Just then, a faint shift of air at my back caught my attention. I turned and noticed two new figures slipping through the half-open door behind us. One was tall, the other smaller.
"Honestly," huffed the taller figure, a blond woman I'd seen only once before. "We might've made it on time if someone didn't decide to fuss over things."
Shizune looked up at the blond. "I told you, Lady Tsunade, these things take time."
"Right, because tying a ribbon—or whatever you were doing—obviously requires hours of time."
Shizune blushed, adjusting the two wrapped boxes in her hands. "I don't see you holding any presents."
Tsunade smirked, tilting her head slightly. "I am the present, little girl."
Her sharp golden-brown eyes scanned the room, lingering on Akira, who nodded politely, then drifted towards the Uchiha elder. Finally, her gaze landed on me. "We're late, but we made it. So... happy birthday."
Shizune nodded quickly, smiling. "Yes, yes! Happy birthday!"
My eyes wandered over the ragtag group gathered in the room—elders, clan heads, friends, and one of the greatest medic-nins in the world standing not ten feet away.
Friends and family I'd never prioritized—never valued in my last life.
They were all here for me—for us.
Shisui's eyes widened slightly, his composure slipping for just a moment as he registered who exactly was standing so close. I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face.
[Happy birthday, bud.] I sent through Whisper, catching his attention.
He took a moment, his eyes scanning the room and finally bowing politely to both the Uchiha elder and Lady Tsunade. Then, as he straightened up, he smiled back at me—warm and genuine.
"Happy birthday, Satoshi."
<><>
After what felt like an hour of mingling, laughing, and catching up, we all settled in the studio to open presents. Shisui and I were propped up front and center, and the audience gathered around us—some standing, some sitting, others leaning against the walls.
It was nice that everyone brought presents for both of us. This wasn't just my birthday—it was ours—a proper dual celebration.
My family—including the Naras and Akimichis—weren't just good people. They were smart. Strategic. They knew how to see potential in the little things. Two boys with the same birthday, both gifted and talented, both clearly growing into a close bond.
But knowing the clan heads and the elders, this wasn't just about a birthday party. There was more to it—a subtle, long-game political maneuver in the works.
And it wasn't too out of the blue for everyone to be here for the both of us. Shisui had his fair share of interactions with Shikaku and Chōza. I knew them well enough to know that they thought highly of him.
If I had to guess, they were nurturing us, planting seeds for the future. Two strong pillars capable of supporting not only each other but all of our clans. That included the Uchiha.
It was a clever plan. They were seasoned shinobi, after all. They knew how to spot talent, how to groom it for what lay ahead. Shisui was a natural genius, the only person I'd ever met who could keep pace with my growth. His rise was inevitable.
I could already see him becoming the bridge between the Uchiha and our families—a new ally in the making. I had no complaints.
I'd been racking my brain for a way to shift the Uchiha's trajectory, to find a path where they didn't end up as unlived and eyeless casualties. But it looked like plans were already in motion.
Through the festivities, my eyes trailed to Shikaku, Dad, Chōza, and the elders. They sat sipping sake and snacks like they didn't notice my knowing look. I knew better.
Shinji Uchiha, though, seemed to find another intriguing specimen to observe—the specimen being Tsunade, that is.
Her fists were slowly curling into tight balls of fury as the minutes passed, but I was sure Akira was sending her silent whispers to her mind, doing her best to keep the Senju princess as calm as possible.
We didn't want an earthquake going off in the compound, did we?
Now, outside the compound... that was a different story.
"Open mine next!" Chōza's booming voice broke through the chatter. "Both of you, at the same time."
Chōko, his wife, gave him a 'light' squeeze on the arm. "Ours," she corrected gently.
"Right," he corrected, rubbing his arm sheepishly, "Open ours next."
Shisui and I exchanged a glance before picking up the large, neatly wrapped box. Sitting side by side, surrounded by a sea of presents, we unwrapped it in unison.
Inside was a metallic-looking card, Chōza's face proudly engraved in the center. The words at the bottom read: Akimichi Meal Pass – 1 Free Meal/Day.
We thanked the Akimichis and moved on to the next presents.
Dad and Mom got me an extremely expensive art set with new ink, paints, scrolls, canvases, books, and brushes. It was convenient. I had a jutsu idea I wanted to work on, and this would be useful.
Everyone else's gifts ranged from a Fūinjutsu book with seals I'd never seen before to a variety of Nara medicinal herbs and seeds with a booklet describing their usage. Practical, thoughtful, and very on-brand for the Naras.
Shisui, of course, wasn't forgotten.
When he opened his gifts, he was pleasantly surprised with various items: an expensive shuriken and kunai set, sleek armguards, a tanto from Shinji, who made sure to throw in a reminder about "making the Uchiha proud," a hand-crafted violin (from moi, obviously).
He showed more emotion at the violin than at the tanto. Shinji didn't seem too happy about that.
There was also a traditional Uchiha kimono sewn by Shizune. She'd even made one for me—a stunning Yamanaka kimono with intricate embroidery. From the detail she put into these garments, it was no wonder she wasn't at school today. She must've been working on these for a while.
As the pile dwindled, one last nondescript box caught my eye.
"It's for you, Satoshi," Masaru said, his voice calm and quiet yet carried all the way from his stoop across the room.
I reached down, the room quieting slightly as I unwrapped the plain brown paper. Inside was a tanto, its surface so dark it seemed to swallow the light around it.
The blade was obsidian black, sleek and polished, with a matte-black handle that felt cool and solid in my grip. Simple. Deadly. The kind of weapon that carried no flair—just purpose.
Peering back into the box, I noticed a small, slightly crinkled note tucked at the bottom. I unfolded it carefully, the handwriting sharp and without flourish:
Happy Birthday, kid. - D.
The air around me felt a little heavier. I glanced up at Masaru, whose expression gave nothing away, but his voice entered my mind.
[He's a man who's seen too many children die. He doesn't want to see another.]
I turned the tanto over in my hands, the weight of it settling into my palm like it belonged there.
I could already picture the conversation this would spark with my parents. They'd undoubtedly have strong opinions about the giver, but that was a discussion for another time.
For now, I simply nodded in silent thanks and carefully placed the tanto back in its box.
<><>
After opening the gifts, everyone began chatting, eating, and chatting some more.
Shisui took the opportunity to excuse himself to the bathroom, leaving me to fend off the occasional elbow jab from Chōza, who kept confirming that I would participate in his family's annual Shokugeki as I had promised for the twentieth time already.
Across the room, Lady Tsunade, who'd been casually drumming her ruby nails against the arm of her chair, suddenly stopped.
Her eyes flicked briefly in my direction before she stood. Without a word, she walked toward the door, her hand making the faintest, almost imperceptible motion—subtle but clear enough for a trained eye—or genius—to catch.
She was telling me to follow her.
I dodged another elbow jab, excused myself, and followed Tsunade's trail down the long hallway, away from listening ears.
Far enough away, she turned, crossed her arms under her bosom, and peered down at me like she was counting every pore on my face.
Then, after a beat, she said, "Do you want me to train you?"
I blinked, taken off guard by the question. It was direct, straightforward, and carried the kind of weight only someone like Lady Tsunade could deliver.
Silence remained the only sound until her eyebrow raised, probably thinking I had somehow developed an acute spell of deafness. I responded quickly to quell any potential concern.
"Train me?" I asked, (acting) visibly confused.
"Yes," she replied, her golden-brown eyes steady. "You've got talent—more than even..." She held for a beat, stopping herself from finishing that sentence.
She continued, "I don't waste my time on just anyone, Satoshi. But I'm offering you a chance to learn from me. Medical ninjutsu, combat techniques—everything I know."
My heart did a little twirl and a back handspring. I'd classify that as a heart attack if I were elderly.
I kinda expected something to come from that little impromptu questioning sesh we had a while back, but I didn't get my hopes up.
I knew Tsunade and her grandma Mito had a relationship with Akira, and I'm more than sure she (and potentially my parents since they did say they would find me a better teacher) had something to do with this.
But I was pretty sure Tsunade should've developed her fear of blood before this, so taking another student would've been a liability for her, considering everything she's experienced thus far—death and all.
I guess my cooking and the French cuisine must've worked its magic. Everybody loves love, right?
For a moment, I just stared at her, contemplating everything I could gain from her teachings. Everything I could incorporate into my repertoire.
If I had a choice of teacher, out of all the Sanin—her, Peeping Tom, and the Snake Pedophile—I'd choose Tsunade. Every. Single. Motherfreaking. Time.
It wasn't even a question.
She raised a brow at my silence. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? Or do you think I'm joking?"
"No," I said quickly, straightening my posture. "I mean—no, Lady Tsunade. I don't think you're joking. It's just a bit... unexpected."
"Well, I had to come with a present, didn't I?" She said, her arms still crossed. "And life's full of unexpected moments. The question is, what are you going to do with them?"
I didn't hesitate. My mind was made up when I knew she was still living in the village. I planned to worm my way into her good graces somehow, but everything seemed to always work in my favor. Lucky me.
Did Limit Breaker work on luck? I pondered—a thought for another time.
"I would be honored," I said finally.
Her lips curved into a small smile—almost approving, but not quite.
"Good. Then it's settled. You already seem to know... more than the basics, but I'll work you from the ground up—everything from medical knowledge to combat. We'll meet at the Senju compound at 9:00 AM Saturday to begin your—and Shizune's training, understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," I replied, bowing slightly as she turned to walk back toward the studio.
Becoming her student wasn't a simple transaction; she just took me as a disciple. She was now my master. This wasn't simply about knowledge. It was about the political influence—the political protection it would give me.
She was another shield I was more than willing to welcome in my armory.
Before she could get any further, I spoke. "Tsunade-shishou."
She stilled, not expecting me to use the "master" title already, I guessed.
Turning, she looked my way. "Yes?"
"Are you, by chance, still taking students?"
Her eyebrow raised. "What do you mean?"
I held for a bit, finding my words. "I mean... are you willing to take one more student? If possible..." I trailed off.
She stood, silence echoing between us. "No." And then turned to walk away.
"Tsunade-shishou," I replied, walking after her.
Her steps remained steady. "I said no."
"I know this might be overstepping—"
"You think?"
I pushed on, "But I believe Shisui would be a great student to take under your wing."
She turned on her heel. "Why?"
Her gaze was sharp, cutting through the space between us. But I stood firm, showing my resolve and perhaps naivety; I found using it at times could be more beneficial than not.
I drew in a breath. This wasn't about me—it was about Shisui. The future. We've had conversations about things—about fighting... about killing. If he (and I'm sure anyone else who was sane in mind and body) had a choice, he'd rather study medicine than how to quietly and efficiently kill someone.
Not that he wouldn't ever, but people did have their preferences.
He had a photographic memory, courtesy of the Sharingan. His chakra control was, I'm sure, more than met the requirements to be her student.
Having Tsunade as his sensei would make him even that much stronger than he was canonically, and she could offer an invisible layer of protection against an old, decrepit future (freak) threat.
I was playing my hand early. It was a gamble but a calculated one.
"He's a genius," I began. "I know, I know—that term gets thrown around a lot, but it's true with him. Shisui's adaptability, instincts, and capacity to learn and apply what he's taught are as good as mine, if not better." Her heel tapped lightly on the wood beneath. "He's also someone who, I believe, can make a difference in this world."
Tsunade's tilted her head slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. "If I'm not mistaken, you've known this boy for just a month."
"And you've known me for even less," I countered softly, my voice lowering to a near whisper.
Her brow lifted, just slightly. "That's not exactly a convincing argument," she said dryly.
"It's not about how long you've known someone," I replied. "It's about what you can see in them, isn't it?"
"You're six." She said.
I nodded my head. "Correct. A six-year-old genius. That should make my words hold at least the same value as a fifteen-year-old, right?"
She didn't laugh. It was a decent try.
Quickly but with measured sincerity, I pressed on, "With your guidance, you won't just have students—you'll have seeds to plant for the future." Was I using Will of Fire propaganda? That was irrelevant.
"I read a quote from you in a book a while ago," I said. "'A good medic can save more lives than any one fighter.'" Her finger twitched at that.
"But what if it's more than that? What if it's about teaching people to protect what matters... together? Shisui and I—we share the same dream. To bring peace to the world. I know how impossible that sounds, but isn't that the Will of Fire? To protect the next generation so they can carry on the dream of those who came before them?"
The heart card. I was pulling on it hard. Now, to see if she felt it.
Her eyes flickered for the briefest of moments, and then her gaze bore into me, sharp and calculating. The silence between us felt like it stretched for hours, though it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.
She turned, and her heels began clacking against the hardwood floors beneath. A frown crept onto my face until she muttered. "I'll consider it."
And with that, she waltzed her way back into the studio, leaving me to watch her trail.
Well, Shisui, buddy, I thought. I did the best I could. I can only leave it up to fate now.
As I made my way back to the studio, a shudder of air rippled down the corridor behind me, folding around a small, familiar body and brushing the edge of my senses.
I smiled, walking on.
[END OF ARC 2]
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[OMAKE]
For reasons not quite beyond my genius comprehension, Shisui kept side-eying me.
"I heard what you asked her," he whispered, leaning closer, his voice barely audible, like he was trying to pass top-secret village secrets.
I took the ink and booklet my parents had gifted me and placed them neatly on my lap.
My thoughts drifted immediately: If I infuse my chakra into this ink, can I recreate Sai's Super Beast Imitating Drawing... but better? I mean, I clearly have godly art skills (pun very much intended). That is... if it even works.
"... Hello?" Shisui hissed again, this time practically in my ear. "Anyone home?"
"Hm?" I finally looked up at him, blinking innocently. Shisui's brow was furrowed at such an odd angle it was almost impressive.
"Oh, sorry, Shisui. Did you say something?"
His fingers absently trailed across the tanto resting on his lap, his expression darkening ever so slightly. From the way his face morphed, I could tell he wasn't exactly having PG-13 thoughts.
He took a slow, deliberate breath, clearly gathering his composure. "Why did you ask her that?"
"So, you were spying on our conversation?" I asked casually.
He began unsheathing the tanto.
"Because," I said quickly, my voice hitching slightly.
My attention darted to the rug beneath us. It was imported and cost more than most shinobi made in a month. I wasn't exactly eager to see blood—of any kind (mine in particular)—ruining it.
"I'm your friend. And friends look out for each other, right?"
That got him. His grip on the tanto faltered slightly, and he looked at me, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief.
I shrugged, unwilling to elaborate.
There was no way I was diving into the extensive mental bullet-point list I'd crafted about why having the Senju princess as his teacher was literally a life-saving maneuver—for him, me, and the world as a whole.
"You'd do the same for me," I added breezily, dismissing him with a wave of my hand. "So, drop it. You're already her student now, anyway, so it doesn't matter."
I turned my attention back to the presents in my lap, fiddling with the ink bottle like the conversation was over.
But Shisui remained suspiciously quiet beside me. Too quiet.
I risked a glance his way, just to make sure he hadn't slipped into a myocardial infarction.
"Shisui," I said, my eyes widening slightly. "Is that... are you crying?"
"No," he said immediately, his voice thick as he turned his face away and rubbed furiously at his eyes. "No, I'm not!"
"You are!" I said, standing up abruptly to get a better look at him. "Shisui, you're—ow! Please tell me you did not just poke me with your tanto."
Shisui's grip on his weapon tightened as he glared at me through watery eyes. "I'll do it again if you don't leave me alone."
At that moment, I, Satoshi Yamanaka, the genius heir to the Yamanaka clan, decided that my life—bright, brilliant, and full of limitless potential—was far more valuable than antagonizing a tanto-wielding Uchiha.
I sat my ass down.
"As you wish... crybaby," I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear.
Shisui's eyes narrowed dangerously, and in a blur of motion, his tanto slashed through the air. I flickered out of reach just in time, but not before his blade nicked the edge of my chair. My 50,000 Ryō chair. Nôv(el)B\\jnn
I stared at the small tear in the fabric, a pit forming in my stomach. "You nearly killed my chair!"
"And I'll do it again," Shisui said, his tone flat, though his red-rimmed eyes betrayed the earlier tears.
"Not the chair, Shisui!" I cried, scrambling further away as he lunged again, his tanto gleaming in the dim light.
The rest of the night was a chaotic blur of my screams echoing through the house, Shisui chasing me with a vengeance—his tears long forgotten—, our moms gleefully taking pictures of us with Shinji nodding approvingly in the background, like everything happening was absolutely normal.
Oh, what a birthday.
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[A/N] For those of you who've stuck along for the ride, I thank you and am more than grateful for your consistent support! Did you like the Chapter? What about the OMAKE? I thought it was a cute scene and was pretty fun to write, haha.
Since it's the end of ARC 2, I decided to do a little blurb on some things below for fun:
SATOSHI & HIS BOOK
You're in luck. I didn't forget about Satoshi's book. It'll be discussed after the time skip.
SATOSHI BECOMING TSUNADES STUDENT:
To be honest, my first plan for Satoshi was to have Orochimaru become his sensei, but after writing the story, the natural progression swayed in this direction.
I think he can make more of an influence this way, and realistically, it would be Satoshi's preference to learn under her since, as we know, he studied medicine in his last life. It should be exciting to see what developments in the field they can make over the years.
SHISUI + TSUNADE TOO?
Did Shisui become her student, too? Yes, yes, my boy Shisui did. Well, that was also a natural progression. Satoshi sees Shisui as a friend, brother in arms (potential godfather?), and someone who can help him bring peace to the world.
But for that to happen, Shisui needs to be stronger than he was canonically and, of course, survive. Satoshi wants to set up the pieces of Shisui's (and the Uchiha's) protection (against you know who) and development as early as possible so they have time to bear fruit.
HOW STRONG IS SATOSHI RIGHT NOW?
I've seen some comments about Satoshi being as strong as a Jonin at five (now six years old). I'd have to disagree. Without a shadow of a doubt, he's strong and can easily defeat any chunin he encounters. But can I comfortably put him at Jonin level right now? No shot.
The previous Chapters have dropped little bits of information to show his strengths and weaknesses: He has Uzumaki and Senju levels of chakra at birth, an extremely high yin affinity, a body that heals broken ribs, minor mind damage, and internal bleeding after 3 hours. But we also saw that Inoichi let Satoshi win their spar, and Daiki beat him easily, etc.
Now, one thing we know about Satoshi is his tendency to overprepare. So, if it came down to it and Satoshi had time to prep (in whatever capacity that is), he could definitely beat some Jonin. And that's not even considering his upcoming training arc with Tsunade and the time skip.
~ You can put your theories of how strong you think Satoshi realistically is here! ~
** DROP YOUR IDEAS HERE**
There will be about a 9 month time skip coming up - at least until the end of the academy. Drop some ideas of things you want to see that Satoshi and Shisui either improved upon, learned, or did or will do.
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Thanks for reading; until next time. - Dream