Yamamoto was in the middle of his morning meditation—a new addition to his routine that Enbukenja had insisted upon—when someone cleared their throat behind him.
He ignored it.
Meditation required focus. Focus required ignoring distractions. This was basic.
The throat-clearing happened again, louder this time.
He continued ignoring it.
"YAMAMOTO!"
His eyes snapped open.
Standing in front of him were three people he vaguely recognized. A man with tired eyes and a perpetually exasperated expression. A girl with glasses who was clutching a medical textbook. And a boy with spiky hair who looked like he wanted to be literally anywhere else.
Yamamoto stared at them.
They stared back.
"Do I know you?" he asked.
The man's eye twitched violently.
"We're your TEAM," he said through gritted teeth. "Team Fifteen. I'm your jounin sensei. Uchiha Goro. We've been a team for SEVEN YEARS."
Yamamoto's brain, which had been entirely focused on training and sword spirits and the impending Bankai revelation, slowly dredged up some memories.
Oh.
Right.
He had a team.
He had completely forgotten.
"In my defense," Yamamoto said, "I've been very busy."
"BUSY?!" Goro's voice cracked. "We haven't seen you in THREE MONTHS! We've completed TWELVE missions without you! The Hokage had to officially list you as 'on extended solo training leave' because we couldn't find you!"
"I was training."
"YOU'RE ALWAYS TRAINING!"
"Yes. That's the point."
Goro looked like he was about to have an aneurysm.
The girl with glasses—Yamamoto's brain finally supplied her name: Uchiha Ami, a distant cousin who had survived the massacre by being away on a mission—stepped forward hesitantly.
"Yamamoto-san, we were worried about you," she said softly. "You just... disappeared. We thought something might have happened."
"Something did happen. I achieved Shikai."
"What's a Shikai?"
"My sword transformed. It has a spirit now. Or it always had a spirit, and I just learned to communicate with it. The metaphysics are unclear."
The three members of Team Fifteen exchanged glances.
The boy—Uchiha Takeo, another massacre survivor—spoke up for the first time.
"Did you hit your head or something?" he asked. "Because that sounds insane."
Yamamoto drew Kagutsuchi.
"Reduce all creation to ash, Enbukenja."
The training ground exploded into flames.
When the fire cleared, Yamamoto stood in his transformed state—elongated blade, flame-woven armor, burning cape trailing from his shoulders.
Team Fifteen stared.
"As I said," Yamamoto continued calmly, "my sword transformed."
Goro sat down heavily on a nearby rock.
"I need a vacation," he muttered. "A very long vacation."
The reunion, such as it was, took several hours.
Yamamoto learned that in his absence, Team Fifteen had actually become quite competent. Goro had focused their training on teamwork and coordination—skills that Yamamoto had never bothered to develop—and the results were impressive.
Ami had become a skilled medical ninja, capable of healing most injuries in the field. Takeo had developed a talent for trap-setting and ambush tactics. And Goro himself had refined his fire techniques to a respectable level.
They were a functional, effective team.
Without him.
This should have been insulting. Instead, Yamamoto felt something almost like... relief?
"You don't need me," he observed.
"We didn't say that—" Ami started.
"I mean it as a compliment. You've become strong on your own. That's admirable."
There was an awkward pause.
"Thanks?" Takeo said uncertainly. "I think?"
"You're welcome. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to continue my meditation. I'm working toward achieving Bankai."
"What's a Bankai?"
"The next level of sword transformation. Apparently it grants power capable of burning dimensions. I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I intend to find out."
Goro put his head in his hands.
"Of course you do," he said. "Of course you do."
Meanwhile, across the village, Team Seven was having its first official meeting.
Naruto bounced on his heels, unable to contain his excitement. He was finally a genin! He had a team! He was on his way to becoming Hokage!
The only problem was his teammates.
Sasuke Uchiha sat on the opposite end of the bench, radiating an aura of brooding intensity that would have been impressive if it weren't so annoying. He hadn't said a word since arriving, just stared into the distance like he was contemplating the futility of existence.
Sakura Haruno sat in the middle, trying to look casual while very obviously sneaking glances at Sasuke every few seconds. She had pink hair, green eyes, and a crush so massive it could probably be seen from space.
And their sensei was late.
Very late.
Like, three hours late.
"WHERE IS HE?!" Naruto finally exploded. "This is ridiculous! We've been waiting forever!"
"Calm down, Naruto," Sakura said, though she also looked annoyed. "I'm sure Kakashi-sensei has a good reason for being late."
"He's probably just reading his pervy books somewhere," Naruto grumbled.
"Don't be disrespectful!"
"I'm being realistic!"
Sasuke continued staring at nothing, apparently lost in thought.
When Kakashi finally arrived—strolling in through the door with a casual wave and a book in his hand—Naruto immediately started yelling.
"YOU'RE LATE!"
"Sorry, sorry. A black cat crossed my path, so I had to take the long way around."
"THAT'S A TERRIBLE EXCUSE!"
"It's the only one I've got." Kakashi tucked his book away and studied his new students with his one visible eye. "Now then. Let's start with introductions. Tell me your name, your likes, your dislikes, and your dreams for the future."
Naruto went first, launching into an enthusiastic monologue about ramen and becoming Hokage.
Sakura went second, spending most of her time giggling and glancing at Sasuke.
Sasuke went third.
"My name is Sasuke Uchiha," he said, his voice cold. "I don't have many likes. I have many dislikes. And I don't have a dream, because I'm going to make it a reality. I'm going to restore my clan and kill a certain someone."
There was a heavy silence.
"Well, that's not ominous at all," Kakashi said cheerfully. "Moving on! Tomorrow we'll have a survival exercise to determine if you're actually ready to be genin. Meet at Training Ground Seven at six AM. Oh, and don't eat breakfast—you'll throw up."
He disappeared in a puff of smoke before anyone could ask questions.
"I hate him already," Naruto announced.
"Don't be rude!" Sakura snapped. "He's our sensei!"
"He was three hours late and gave us terrible advice about black cats!"
"Maybe there really was a black cat!"
"THERE'S NEVER A BLACK CAT!"
Sasuke stood up and walked away without saying anything.
"Wait, Sasuke-kun! Where are you going?" Sakura called after him.
"Training."
He didn't elaborate.
Sasuke arrived at Training Ground Seven—not the one designated for tomorrow's test, but the one where Yamamoto usually practiced—just as the sun was setting.
Yamamoto was there, of course. Sitting cross-legged on the scorched earth, eyes closed, sword resting across his lap. He looked almost peaceful, which was strange given that he was surrounded by the destruction of his earlier training session.
"You're meditating again," Sasuke observed.
"The sword demands it."
"That's... weird."
"Yes."
Sasuke sat down across from him, settling into the meditation pose that Yamamoto had taught him weeks ago.
"I have a team now," he said after a while. "Naruto, Sakura, and some jounin named Kakashi."
"Hatake Kakashi. The Copy Ninja. He's skilled."
"You know him?"
"I know of him. He copied over a thousand jutsu with his Sharingan."
Sasuke perked up. "He has a Sharingan?"
"Transplanted. Not natural. The eye was a gift from a dying teammate—an Uchiha named Obito."
"I didn't know there were transplanted Sharingan."
"There are several, actually. Danzo has at least a dozen hidden in his arm."
Sasuke's meditation pose broke as he turned to stare at Yamamoto.
"What?"
"Danzo. The old man who leads ROOT. He's been collecting Sharingan eyes for years. I suspect some of them came from the massacre, though I can't prove it."
"That's... that's..." Sasuke couldn't find words.
"Disturbing? Yes. But not immediately relevant. He's too politically entrenched to challenge directly, and I have more pressing concerns."
"More pressing than someone desecrating our clan's legacy?!"
"Yes. I'm trying to achieve Bankai. The metaphysical significance of dimensional flame manipulation takes priority."
Sasuke's eye twitched.
"You're insane," he said.
"Probably. Now stop talking. Meditation requires focus."
They sat in silence.
Sasuke seethed.
Yamamoto breathed.
Somewhere in his inner world, Enbukenja chuckled.
The next morning, Team Seven assembled at Training Ground Seven for their survival exercise.
Kakashi arrived three hours late again.
"YOU'RE LATE!" Naruto and Sakura shouted in unison.
"My alarm didn't go off."
"THAT'S EVEN WORSE THAN YESTERDAY'S EXCUSE!"
"I thought it was pretty good, actually." Kakashi pulled out two bells, holding them up for the team to see. "Here's the deal. You have until noon to take these bells from me. Whoever doesn't get a bell goes back to the Academy."
"But there are only two bells!" Sakura protested.
"Yes. That's the point. At least one of you will fail. Maybe all of you." He tucked the bells into his pouch. "Oh, and come at me with intent to kill. Otherwise you won't have a chance."
"Ready? Begin!"
The test began.
It did not go well.
Naruto attacked head-on and got stuck in a hole.
Sakura got caught in a genjutsu and collapsed.
Sasuke put up a better fight—actually managing to touch one of the bells—but ultimately ended up buried up to his neck in earth.
By the time the alarm rang, all three of them had failed miserably.
"Pathetic," Kakashi said, looking down at his defeated students. "You have no teamwork. You didn't even try to coordinate. You just attacked individually and got picked off one by one."
"How were we supposed to coordinate?!" Naruto demanded, still stuck in his hole. "You said only two of us could pass!"
"I said whoever doesn't get a bell goes back to the Academy. I never said anything about passing."
There was a confused pause.
"The test wasn't about the bells," Sakura realized slowly. "It was about working together."
"Finally, someone with a brain." Kakashi sighed. "Look. In the ninja world, those who break the rules are trash. But those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash. I wanted to see if you could put aside your individual goals to help each other. You couldn't."
The three genin looked at each other.
"So... we failed?" Naruto asked.
"You should have. But I'm feeling generous today. One more chance. After lunch. And this time, try actually cooperating."
He disappeared.
Team Seven sat in silence for a moment.
Then Naruto pulled out his lunch and offered half to Sasuke.
"Here. You're gonna need your strength."
Sasuke stared at the food. Then, slowly, he took it.
"Thanks."
Sakura offered her share too.
Something had shifted between them.
Something important.
While Team Seven was learning the value of friendship, Yamamoto was deep in his inner world.
The realm of fire surrounded him—endless flames stretching to every horizon—and Enbukenja stood before him in its humanoid form of living flame.
"You've been meditating more frequently," the spirit observed. "That's progress."
"You said it was necessary for Bankai."
"It is. Bankai requires perfect harmony between wielder and blade. You must understand me as well as you understand yourself."
"I understand fire. I've worked with fire my entire life."
"You understand destruction. That's not the same thing."
Yamamoto frowned. "What's the difference?"
Enbukenja gestured, and the flames around them shifted. Images formed in the fire—scenes of forests burning, cities collapsing, people screaming as everything they knew turned to ash.
"This is what you see when you think of fire," the spirit said. "Destruction. Consumption. Endings."
The images changed. Now they showed sunlight warming a cold world. Campfires bringing people together. Forges creating tools and weapons. Cooking fires sustaining life.
"But fire is also this. Creation. Warmth. Beginnings. Fire is not just an ending—it is a transformation. Everything that burns becomes something new."
"I don't understand."
"I know. That's why you're not ready for Bankai yet." The spirit turned to face him directly, its Amaterasu eyes boring into his. "Tell me, Yamamoto. What do you want to create?"
"Create?"
"You've spent your entire second life destroying. Destroying limits. Destroying obstacles. Destroying anyone who threatened you. But what have you built? What have you made? What has your fire brought into being rather than reduced to ash?"
Yamamoto was silent.
He had never thought about it that way.
"I... don't know," he admitted.
"Then find out. That is the first step toward Bankai."
Yamamoto emerged from his meditation to find Tenten sitting across from him.
Again.
"How long have you been there?" he asked.
"About three hours. You were very deep in meditation. I didn't want to disturb you." She was holding her notebook, as always. "Also, I brought lunch."
She pushed a bento box toward him.
Yamamoto looked at it.
"Why?"
"Because you never eat properly. You train so much that you forget basic necessities like food and sleep and social interaction." She blushed slightly. "Not that I've been watching you closely enough to notice your habits or anything."
"You've definitely been watching me."
"For research purposes!"
"Right."
He opened the bento. It was well-made—rice, grilled fish, vegetables arranged in an aesthetically pleasing pattern. More effort than a simple lunch required.
"Thank you," he said, and meant it.
Tenten's blush deepened.
She definitely likes you, Enbukenja observed.
Yamamoto ignored the sword.
You're going to have to deal with this eventually.
He continued ignoring the sword.
Coward.
Team Fifteen showed up an hour later.
"We're going on a mission," Goro announced, looking like he had aged a decade since their reunion yesterday. "A real mission. With the whole team. Including you."
"I'm training—"
"You're ALWAYS training! That's the POINT! You need to do something else for once in your ridiculously overpowered life!"
Yamamoto considered arguing, but the look in Goro's eyes suggested that the man was very close to a complete mental breakdown.
"What kind of mission?" he asked instead.
"C-rank. Escort duty. Should be simple." Goro's eye twitched. "Of course, nothing involving you is ever simple, so we'll probably end up fighting a Kage or something."
"That seems unlikely."
"You created a CANYON by accident! You have a TALKING SWORD! 'Unlikely' stopped applying to you years ago!"
This was, Yamamoto had to admit, a fair point.
The mission was, in fact, simple.
They were escorting a merchant caravan from Konoha to a nearby village. The route was safe, the cargo was non-controversial, and the biggest danger was boredom.
Yamamoto found himself walking at the back of the group, watching his teammates operate.
Ami handled first aid for the merchants, who had various minor injuries from the road. Her medical jutsu was precise and efficient.
Takeo scouted ahead, setting up subtle traps at regular intervals that would warn them of any approaching threats. His paranoia was almost admirable.
Goro coordinated everything, keeping the merchants calm while managing his team's movements. He was a good leader.
They didn't need Yamamoto.
But they had included him anyway.
"Why did you insist I come?" he asked Goro during a rest stop.
The jounin sighed. "Because you're still part of this team, whether you remember us or not. And because..." He hesitated. "Because you can't train your way out of everything. Sometimes you need to just... be with people. Exist in the world. Remember that there's more to life than getting stronger."
"I have connections now. Naruto. Sasuke. Lee. Others."
"And that's good! But they're not your team. We've been together for seven years. We've watched you grow from a terrifying child prodigy into a terrifying teenage prodigy. We've seen you push yourself past every reasonable limit. And we're worried about you."
Yamamoto was quiet.
"I didn't realize you worried."
"Of course we do. You're impossible and frustrating and you literally forgot we existed, but you're still our teammate." Goro shook his head. "Just... try to be present, okay? Not everything has to be about power."
He has a point, Enbukenja murmured.
For once, Yamamoto didn't argue.
The mission concluded without incident.
No enemy ninja. No surprise attacks. No opportunities for Yamamoto to demonstrate his overwhelming power.
Just... a normal mission.
When they returned to Konoha, Yamamoto found himself feeling strangely satisfied.
"Same time next week?" Ami asked hopefully.
"I... yes. Same time next week."
She beamed at him.
Takeo nodded in what might have been approval.
Goro looked like he might actually cry from relief.
Team Fifteen disbanded for the day, and Yamamoto returned to his training ground.
But he didn't immediately start training.
Instead, he sat down and thought about Enbukenja's question.
What did he want to create?
His entire second life had been about destruction. Destroying the limitations of his body. Destroying anyone who threatened him. Preparing to destroy Itachi if necessary.
But destruction was just an ending.
What came after?
He thought about Naruto—the lonely boy who wanted to build connections, to create a world where no one was alone.
He thought about Sasuke—the driven avenger who, despite his darkness, wanted to rebuild his clan.
He thought about Lee—the tireless warrior who wanted to prove that hard work could create miracles.
He thought about Tenten—the weapons enthusiast who wanted to understand, to document, to preserve knowledge for future generations.
He thought about his team—the people who wanted nothing more than to be acknowledged, to be remembered, to matter.
What did Yamamoto want to create?
He closed his eyes and reached for his inner world.
The flames parted as he appeared.
Enbukenja was waiting, as always.
"You've been thinking," the spirit observed.
"Yes."
"And? What did you discover?"
Yamamoto took a deep breath.
"I want to create safety," he said slowly. "Not just for myself. For everyone I care about. I want to build a world where the people precious to me don't have to live in fear. Where the next massacre doesn't happen. Where the cycle of violence... stops."
"That's a large goal."
"I'm a large person. Metaphorically."
"And how will you achieve this with fire?"
"Fire transforms. You said it yourself. It doesn't just destroy—it changes things into something new." Yamamoto met the spirit's burning gaze. "I will burn away the threats. The dangers. The systems that create suffering. And from those ashes, something better will grow."
Enbukenja was silent for a long moment.
Then it smiled.
"The first step," it said. "You have taken the first step toward Bankai."
"What happens now?"
"Now? Now we begin the real training. Physical strength alone won't help you here. You must learn to shape fire not just with your hands, but with your heart. You must understand flame not just as a tool, but as a partner."
"How long will that take?"
"As long as it takes. There are no shortcuts on this path."
Yamamoto nodded.
For the first time in his life, he wasn't impatient.
He had a goal now.
A real goal.
Not just survival—but creation.
He emerged from his inner world to find the sun setting.
His training ground was quiet, peaceful even despite the scorch marks and craters.
In the distance, he could hear sounds of the village—people going about their lives, unaware of the powers being developed just outside their walls.
Yamamoto drew Kagutsuchi, holding the blade up to catch the fading light.
"We're going to do something impossible," he said quietly. "Again."
That's what we do, Enbukenja replied. That's what we've always done.
"But this time, it's not just about strength."
No. This time, it's about meaning.
Yamamoto smiled—a real smile, not the approximation he usually managed.
"Let's get started."
He began to train.
But for the first time, he wasn't just grinding.
He was building.
The next morning, Naruto burst into the training ground with news.
"YAMAMOTO! You'll never guess what happened! We passed! Team Seven is official! Kakashi-sensei tested us and we totally failed but then we worked together and he gave us another chance and we passed for real this time!"
"Congratulations."
"Also we're doing missions now! Real missions! Well, D-rank missions, which are kind of boring, but still! Real ninja stuff!"
"That's good."
"And Sasuke was actually almost nice to me! Like, only a little bit mean instead of really mean! I think we're becoming friends!"
"Progress."
Naruto paused, studying Yamamoto's face.
"You look different," he said. "Like, happier or something."
"I had a realization."
"About what?"
Yamamoto considered how to explain his spiritual journey toward understanding the creative aspect of fire and his newfound goal of protecting those precious to him.
"About what I want to build," he said simply.
Naruto grinned. "That's cool! Building stuff is great! I'm gonna build a whole village of respect when I'm Hokage!"
"I believe you."
"Really?!"
"Really."
Naruto's grin threatened to split his face in half.
"You're the best, Yamamoto! Okay, I gotta go, we have another mission—something about catching a cat?—but I'll come back later and tell you all about it!"
He ran off.
Yamamoto watched him go.
You really do care about him, Enbukenja observed.
"He's my friend."
Your first real friend in this life.
"Yes."
That matters.
"I'm beginning to understand that."
Sasuke arrived an hour later, looking frustrated.
"The cat escaped seventeen times," he said flatly. "Seventeen. That demon animal is faster than some genin."
"Tora?"
"You know its name?"
"Everyone knows Tora. It's been escaping from missions for decades. Some people think it's immortal."
Sasuke's eye twitched. "Why didn't anyone warn us?"
"Character building."
"I hate character building."
They sat in companionable silence.
"What was that thing you said yesterday?" Sasuke asked eventually. "About Danzo and the Sharingan?"
"Danzo has multiple Sharingan eyes implanted in his body. He uses them to influence people and enhance his abilities."
"And some of those eyes came from our clan."
"Almost certainly."
Sasuke's fists clenched.
"When I get stronger—"
"When you get stronger, we'll deal with him together." Yamamoto met his eyes. "You're not alone in this, Sasuke. The Uchiha may be reduced to three survivors, but that doesn't mean we're powerless."
"Three?"
"You, me, and Itachi. We're what remains of the clan."
"Itachi is a traitor."
"Itachi is complicated. But that's a conversation for another time." Yamamoto stood up. "For now, train. Get stronger. And when the time comes, we'll face whatever needs to be faced together."
Sasuke looked at him for a long moment.
"Together," he repeated, as if testing the word.
"Yes."
Something shifted in Sasuke's expression. Not much—he was still a brooding avenger with serious emotional issues—but something.
"Okay," he said. "Teach me something."
"Today we're working on meditation."
"Not physical training?"
"Mental training first. Physical will follow." Yamamoto sat back down. "Close your eyes. Breathe. And listen."
Sasuke complied.
In the silence of the training ground, two Uchiha survivors sat together and reached for something beyond strength.
Something like peace.
Later that evening, Team Fifteen assembled for a training session of their own.
Goro had insisted on weekly team exercises, and for once, Yamamoto had agreed without argument.
"What are we working on today?" Ami asked.
"Coordination," Goro said. "Specifically, how to fight alongside Yamamoto without being incinerated by accident."
"I have better control now," Yamamoto protested.
"You set the training ground on fire yesterday. The entire training ground. While meditating."
"That was intentional."
"WAS IT?!"
"...Mostly."
Goro's eye twitched.
The training session was actually productive.
They developed strategies for fighting alongside Yamamoto's overwhelming power—ways to use his flames as cover, how to predict his attacks, where to position themselves to avoid being caught in the crossfire.
It required compromise on Yamamoto's part.
He had to hold back. To coordinate. To think about his teammates' capabilities instead of just his own.
It was frustrating.
But also... valuable.
This is growth, Enbukenja observed. Learning to work with others instead of just powering through every obstacle.
"It's inefficient."
Efficient isn't always better. Sometimes the slower path teaches more important lessons.
Yamamoto didn't respond, but he didn't argue either.
That night, in his inner world, Enbukenja showed him something new.
"Your flames have changed," the spirit said, gesturing at the fire surrounding them.
Yamamoto looked. The flames were... different. Still orange and red and white and black, but now there were hints of other colors. Blue around the edges. Purple in the depths.
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"It means you're evolving. The first step toward Bankai has begun to transform your spiritual nature." Enbukenja's form shifted, becoming more defined, more solid. "As you change, so do I. We are linked."
"How much further do I have to go?"
"That depends on you. Bankai is not a destination—it's a process. Some achieve it in months. Others take years. A few never reach it at all."
"I'll reach it."
"I know. The question is what you'll become along the way."
Yamamoto considered this.
"Something better, I hope."
"That's the right answer."
Days passed.
Weeks.
Yamamoto continued his training—physical, mental, and spiritual. He worked with his team. He meditated with Sasuke. He listened to Naruto's enthusiastic mission reports. He answered Tenten's endless questions about his sword.
He was, slowly but surely, becoming part of a community.
It was strange.
It was uncomfortable.
But it was also, he was beginning to realize, exactly what he needed.
The grind continued.
But it was no longer grinding in isolation.
He was building something.
And for the first time since his reincarnation, that felt like enough.
End of Chapter 4