Chapter 16 The Calm Before the Storm
"True, true!"
"Why are you spacing out today?"
Tenten waved her hand in front of Uchiha Makoto's eyes. When she noticed he wasn't responding, she raised her voice sharply.
"Huh? It's nothing. Let's go first." Makoto brushed it off. There was no point telling them what he was truly thinking. The so-called six-year-old cadres of their little "Chi" organization still needed time to grow and mature.
With their mentality and current strength, it was better to wait until they developed further.
"Huh? Well, fine… but you should at least say something. We're friends, and you're also the leader of our group."
Tenten puffed her cheeks in mild annoyance. She knew Makoto's personality well enough—if he didn't want to explain himself, nothing could force it out of him. So she decided to drop the matter.
It was Tuesday. Every other day, they gathered at the training ground where Makoto often faced Neji in sparring matches. Compared to training alone, these actual duels were far more useful.
When will these kinds of days finally end? Makoto thought bitterly. Always worrying about surviving, even though I'm still just a child in this body.
In truth, the strength of Neji, Lee, and Tenten was far behind his own. Makoto was a genius of the Uchiha clan—and more than that, he carried the mind and knowledge of an adult from another world. His perspective on ninjutsu and the shinobi system gave him insights that ordinary children simply couldn't grasp.
How could three young academy students truly be his opponents? Even if he explained things to them, they weren't ready to understand.
And yet, Makoto still valued these sparring matches. It wasn't just for their training—he recognized the potential they each carried. Aside from Shisui, these three were the only ones close to him who could serve as companions in the future.
Sasuke, meanwhile, was still sulking. The last time he'd come asking Makoto to help clean the clan's old training ground, he'd left in resentment, upset at Makoto's indifference.
"Let's start!"
At Tenten's shout, the sparring began. Rock Lee stood off to the side, eyebrows furrowed in focus as he watched the match unfold with his usual fiery intensity.
As expected, it was Neji versus Makoto once again. Between the four of them, Neji was the only one whose skill came close, and even then, the gap was obvious.
They exchanged the Seal of Confrontation. Makoto stood calmly with a kunai in hand, waiting for Neji to move.
Having faced Makoto so many times, Neji's arrogance had been worn down little by little. But he still hadn't abandoned the idea of defeating him.
Closing the distance quickly, Neji attacked with Gentle Fist—his usual style. It was the strongest weapon of the Hyūga, capable of striking an opponent's chakra network directly, but he had little else to fall back on at his current level.
Makoto avoided him with ease. The countless repetitions of sword drills and body training he forced himself through every day weren't wasted. His footwork carried him out of reach again and again.
Left, right, sidestepping effortlessly—Neji's strikes never landed.
At last, Neji halted, frustration seeping into his voice.
"Show me your true strength, Uchiha Makoto!"
He called him by name, his pale eyes narrowing. "What is this? Are you holding back because you pity me?"
"Didn't you say you wanted to become Hokage? Then fight me seriously!"
Makoto's expression hardened at those words.
"You're right, Neji. I was being arrogant. Forgive me. I'll use my full strength."
Before he finished speaking, his hands blurred into seals. A Shadow Clone charged forward, covering the distance in a blink.
So fast! Neji activated his Byakugan fully. His eyes widened—there were two Makotos, and both had chakra systems identical to a real body. These aren't normal clones—they're both solid. But which one is the original?
Before Neji could decide, a heavy kick caught him in the side, sending him flying into the air.
His strength… it's greater than before. Neji thought grimly. And that must be the real one!
Twisting in midair, he regained his balance—but Makoto's chakra signature had already vanished from where he'd been standing.
What? Where—?
With his Byakugan, Neji spotted him immediately—Makoto was already behind him, kunai poised to strike as Neji fell.
I've got him this time!
Gathering his chakra, Neji lashed out with his strongest Gentle Fist strike as he landed, driving it straight into Makoto's chest.
But there was no resistance. His palm passed right through Makoto's body.
What?! An illusion? But the Byakugan can follow chakra directly. I shouldn't be fooled by something this simple!
The image of Makoto dissolved, and Neji suddenly felt a chill. Behind him, another Makoto appeared, arm extended with a kunai. In front of him, yet another closed in, the same killing intent radiating from both.
Their arms crossed over his torso, as though cutting him in half.
"You lose," Makoto said coldly.
Neji froze, his body instinctively recoiling. His breath caught in his throat. When… when did he trap me in this genjutsu?
He clenched his fists in disbelief. Even my Byakugan couldn't see through it… Is the Sharingan truly superior to the Hyūga's eyes?
The figure of Uchiha Makoto in front of Neji dissolved into smoke, and from behind came his calm voice.
"When did you assume I wasn't using genjutsu from the start?"
"The reason you lost isn't just because your strength is lower than mine. There are other factors."
"For example, after losing to me so many times, you've begun to subconsciously believe you'll fail again."
"You also rely too heavily on your Byakugan. A kekkei genkai is powerful, yes—but it isn't everything. A true shinobi needs more than inherited eyes."
"And finally, intelligence. As Iruka-sensei always says in class, information and deception are vital to a ninja's survival."
"The current situation is simple: I already know all of your abilities. But you still don't know how much strength I'm holding back."
Makoto glanced at Neji, whose pale eyes narrowed in thought, then looked toward Tenten and Lee waiting on the sidelines.
"Still," he added, "it's time I started teaching you things the academy won't cover yet."
Cultivating comrades for his small "Chi" organization gave Makoto genuine satisfaction. Watching their growth felt like shaping something greater.
Neji finally nodded, though his tone remained edged with pride.
"Fine! But don't regret it when we surpass you."
Makoto's gaze shifted to the others. Their eyes shone with the same excitement.
Not long after, Makoto dismissed them. Before parting, he outlined their training plan—two hundred repetitions of the academy's basic drills each day.
At once, Rock Lee shouted with fiery determination, "Then I'll do five hundred sets, even if it kills me!" His eyes blazed like Gai-sensei's.
Neji quietly agreed to match Makoto's own number of two hundred, unwilling to fall behind.
Tenten, more practical, said she would cut hers down by fifty so she could dedicate time to refining weapon techniques. Makoto approved. She didn't need brute repetition—her role as a weapons specialist was different.
Thinking of this small squad, Makoto's mood lightened. The time he spent with these three children was genuinely pleasant.
But as he made his way back toward the Uchiha compound, a strange feeling gnawed at him. Someone was watching.
An illusion? he wondered as the familiar rooftops of his clan came into sight. No… this feels real.
Normally, few outsiders dared to step foot into Uchiha territory.
Makoto quickened his pace, abandoning the street for the rooftops, darting like a proper shinobi toward home. But the sensation of being followed only intensified.
He halted suddenly, scanning the shadows.
"Who's there? Come out. I know you're watching me."
From the brush ahead, a masked figure emerged—an Anbu in the standard porcelain mask, this one shaped like a dog.
"Uchiha Makoto," the operative rasped, his voice dry from disuse, "the Sandaime Hokage requests your presence. Come with me."
Makoto's brows furrowed. The Third Hokage… looking for me?
His suspicion deepened. Anbu rarely approached children directly unless it was important—or dangerous.
This masked man doesn't look trustworthy at all…