The next six months blurred together into a cycle of pointlessness and bruises.
If there was a lost cat within a three-mile radius, Tsume sent them after it. Missing parcels? Delivery duty. Someone's fence needed repainting? "Team Five got it."
The civilians loved them. Kazuki did not.
The first month had been the worst.
Tsume would show up, throw a mission scroll at them, then spend the rest of the day with Yugao, giving her patient, thorough instruction in wind release and sword drills. When it came to Kazuki and Azula, Tsume's "training" consisted of one thing — sparring. Or, more accurately, beating them until they couldn't stand.
She calls it tough love. I call it concussion therapy.
At first, pride had kept Kazuki and Azula walking home under their own power — no matter how bloodied or limping they were. The thought of being carried into the Uchiha compound by a non-clan member? Unthinkable.
That ended in the fourth week.
The spar had gone too far — even by Tsume's standards. Kazuki could barely keep his eyes open. Azula's right arm was a useless weight at her side.
Yugao had taken one look at them and said, "I'm taking you home."
"No," Kazuki had muttered.
"Over my dead body," Azula hissed.
Yugao ignored them both. She slung one of Kazuki's arms over her shoulder and grabbed Azula by the waist, half-dragging them through the streets toward the Uchiha compound.
Yugao POV
The day Yugao first carried Kazuki into the Uchiha compound was etched in her bones.
The moment they passed the clan's main gate, she felt the air change. It wasn't like the rest of Konoha — chaotic, loud, uneven. No, the Uchiha compound was… different. Cleaner. Streets were swept spotless, not a single piece of trash on the cobblestones. Houses were lined with precision, doors polished, gardens trimmed in careful patterns. Even the lanterns burned brighter, steady flames that gave no flicker.
It was beautiful. And suffocating.
Everywhere, eyes followed her. Black eyes, bottomless and sharp, weighed on her skin like lead. A few flickered crimson, Sharingan spinning lazily — and those were worst of all.
Her chest tightened. She gripped Kazuki's arm harder. Her voice trembled. "They're all staring…"
Kazuki's tone was calm, almost dismissive. "They always do. Don't worry — they just look strict. Just maintain eye contact when speaking."
Yugao snapped her head toward him, scandalized. "Easy for you to say! You're Uchiha. Do you know how terrifying Sharingan looks when it's aimed at you?"
He blinked at her, then gave a half-smile. "Fair point. But trust me — if you avoid their gaze, they'll think you're weak. Stare back. That's how you show respect here."
Stare back at a Sharingan? Is he insane?
Her pulse hammered as they crossed the streets. Whispers followed. Mothers pulling their children closer. Men frowning at her flak jacket. Even the silence felt sharp, like a blade pressed against her neck.
She kept her chin up, but inside, she was crumbling. Every step deeper made her feel smaller.
Finally, mercifully, they reached the orphanage. The director — an older Uchiha woman with steel-gray hair — accepted Kazuki and Azula with a curt nod. For Yugao, she had no words. Just a stare that lasted too long, until Yugao wanted to melt into the floor.
When she turned to leave, her heart sank.
Because now she had to walk out alone.
Without Kazuki or Azula at her side, she felt naked under the weight of Uchiha eyes. The main road stretched endlessly, lined with shadows. Sharingan gleamed faintly in the dark like predators waiting for a slip.
Her palms sweated. Her pace quickened. She didn't dare run, but every instinct screamed to.
Only when the compound gates closed behind her did she release a ragged breath.
The next time was no easier. Nor the third.
But after a few trips, something changed.
The stares softened. People still looked, but not with suspicion — more with curiosity. Some even inclined their heads politely when she passed.
And the orphanage director… she surprised Yugao most. Before Yugao left each time, the woman would press a small sweet into her hand. Once, after Yugao returned with scraped knuckles, the director silently took her hand, applied healing jutsu, and wrapped it in fresh bandages. Not a word spoken. Just that strange, quiet kindness.
It unsettled her.
Because outside, people whispered rumors of the Uchiha — proud, cold, ruthless. But inside? It wasn't like that. They were strict, yes. Intimidating, yes. But also… protective. Ordered. Even kind, in their own silent way.
Still, Yugao never truly relaxed. The stares, especially from Sharingan, always prickled at her nerves. But with each visit, the fear lessened.
And, though she'd never admit it aloud, she began to understand why Kazuki and Azula carried themselves the way they did.
POV Ends
By month three, Tsume's favoritism was blatant. She trained Yugao with patience — walking her through hand seals, refining her chakra control, correcting her stances. Meanwhile, Kazuki and Azula received the blunt end of Kuromaru's paw and Tsume's fists.
But at month four, Tsume changed tactics.
"Alright, brat," Tsume barked at Yugao. "No more pampering. If you want to be a shinobi, you'll bleed with your team. Line up."
From then on, Yugao joined the "beatdowns." She sparred against Kazuki, Azula, and Kuromaru, often ending up in the dirt alongside them.
It hurt. But it also bound them.
The rivalry dulled into camaraderie. Yugao no longer saw Kazuki and Azula as aloof, prideful Uchiha. She saw them as teammates — stubborn, sarcastic, reckless… but hers.
And they began to accept her too.
One evening, after another spar ended with her face-first in the dirt, Kazuki handed her a wooden sword.
"You've got decent reflexes," he said, brushing mud off his arm. "I'll show you some basics of Uchiha kenjutsu."
Her eyes widened. "But isn't that… clan secret?"
Kazuki smirked. "Relax. The advanced forms need Sharingan. Without it, you'll never master them. But the basics? Anyone can learn. And you'll need it if you don't want Tsume knocking your teeth in every session."
So he taught her. Not the sacred scrolls, not the secret techniques — but the rhythm of Uchiha footwork, the flowing cuts of their swordplay, the discipline of their shuriken throws.
Azula sometimes joined, correcting Yugao with sharp, precise critiques.
For the first time, Yugao didn't feel like the outsider.
By the time spring came, they moved like a single unit in the field.
Even Tsume, though she'd rather bite her tongue than admit it, eased up during spars.
Which is why the summons to the Hokage's office felt different.
Sarutobi looked at them over a stack of reports.
"Team Five," he said, "I believe you're ready for something beyond D-rank missions."
Kazuki raised a brow. "Please tell me it's not another cat."
The Hokage smiled faintly. "No cats. Bandits. A camp along the northern trade route. They've been harassing merchants. Your orders are to eliminate them."
Azula's eyes lit up. "Eliminate?"
"Yes. This is a C-rank mission. You have to kill."
The word hung in the air.
Kazuki only nodded. Finally.
They traveled light and in silence.
By the time they reached the ridge overlooking the camp, the sky was black velvet, lit only by the dying glow of a few campfires.
Tsume crouched, eyes narrowing. "Pups, now's the time to test your guts. Doesn't matter how much strength you have — you need guts to use it. Guts to kill someone."
Kazuki and Yugao both closed their eyes for a moment, senses reaching out.
"No shinobi chakra," Kazuki said.
"Just civilians," Yugao confirmed.
Tsume's smile was razor-thin. "Then go."
Kazuki moved first, his sword whispering from its sheath. The bandit didn't even turn before the blade swept through his neck.
The head hit the dirt with a dull thunk. Blood sprayed in an arc across Kazuki's arm.
Messy. Heart next time. Cleaner.
But beneath that, another thought rose.
I killed someone.
Not a monster. Not a demon. Not a target in a video game. A man. Breathing one second, gone the next.
In his old world, he'd seen violence — but never like this. Never by his hand.
He didn't reach for excuses. He didn't whisper bandits deserve it or the world's better off without them. Those were lies to ease guilt. The truth was simple: he had taken a life.
And he swore, right then, that he would never become a monster who killed for pleasure, profit, or cruelty. Killing was part of this world, unavoidable — but he would never relish it. If he had to kill, he would make it clean. Minimal suffering.
That was his line. His promise to himself.
A grunt from his left — Yugao had driven her blade into a man's chest. She froze for half a heartbeat, eyes wide as he collapsed, blood pooling beneath him.
Azula… Azula's fantasy didn't match reality. She'd imagined killing would feel like victory. Instead, her kunai punched into a man's neck, hot blood spurting across her face. She stumbled back, stomach twisting.
Without thinking, she switched to fire jutsu — long-range, no blood on her hands.
The fight was over in minutes. Smoke curled from the burnt edges of tents. The ground was slick with blood and ash.
Tsume stepped into the clearing, looking at the three of them.
"Not bad," she said. "Messy. But not bad. Take a week off. You've earned it."