Another Boring Uchiha Power Fantasy.

Ren didn’t seem surprised to see her return.

”Sit down,” she said. ”Tell me what happened.”

Mikoto sat on the same low wooden stool she had occupied for eight days. The medical tent was fuller than when she’d left. Three new patients on the east row. Two on the west who hadn’t been there before. Ren looked thinner.

”Six Ame shinobi ambushed our patrol. Daichi-san took a bad water jutsu to the torso. Abdominal wall torn open, two cracked ribs, exposed intestine. I stopped the bleeding in the field, sealed the major vessels, stabilized the muscle wall. After the engagement I spent forty minutes on deeper repair. Rib realignment, fracture fusion, internal inflammation reduction.”

Ren’s expression didn’t change. ”The intestine?”

”Exposed but uncut. I packed the area with healing chakra to prevent infection and sealed the abdominal wall over it. It’s holding.”

”And you fought during this.”

”Kind of. I stabilized him and then fought before going back to healing.”

Ren was quiet for a moment. She looked at the doorway of the tent where Daichi lay on a cot, breathing steadily, his midsection wrapped in fresh bandages.

”You did good work.”

”Thank you.”

”Still not a compliment.” She stood. ”Beds six through fourteen need assessment. The two on the end came in this morning. Burns from an explosive tag that detonated too close. The woman in Bed Ten has a fracture I haven’t had time to set. Get started.”

”Yes, sensei.”

Mikoto got started.

The difference was the chakra.

She assessed Beds Six through Fourteen. She set the fracture in Bed Ten, a clean break of the radius that took twelve minutes and barely dented her reserves. She healed the burns on the two new patients, feeding healing chakra into the damaged tissue layer by layer, watching the angry red skin fade to pink and then to something approaching normal. One of them, a young chunin with singed eyebrows, stared at her hands the entire time.

”How old are you, girlie?” he said.

”Thirteen.”

“A genius, huh? You don’t usually see young medical-nin out in the field.”

By midday she had cleared six patients. Ren had cleared four. The older woman noticed the disparity without commenting on it.

In the afternoon, three more wounded came in from the field. A genin with a dislocated shoulder, a chunin with deep lacerations across both thighs, and a man who had taken a kunai through the palm of his left hand. Ren took the lacerations. Mikoto took the other two.

The shoulder was simple. She popped it back in, fed chakra into the strained ligaments, and had the genin moving his arm again within ten minutes. The hand was harder. The kunai had gone clean through, shattering two metacarpal bones and severing three tendons. She rebuilt the bones first, then reattached the tendons one by one, guiding each severed end back to its partner with threads of green chakra so fine she could barely see them.

It took thirty minutes. Her hands were steady and her reserves barely moved.

When she finished, the man flexed his fingers experimentally. All five moved.

”Good as new,” he said, staring at his hand.

”Not yet. Don’t grip anything heavy for three days. The tendons need time to set properly even after healing.”

He nodded.

Ren appeared at her shoulder after he left.

”You’re faster than me,” she said.

Mikoto looked at her.

”Were you just holding out on me earlier in your training?”

”I have a lot of chakra and didn’t want to mess anything up.”

”You do have a ridiculous amount of chakra.” Ren folded her arms. ”And your control has improved. The tendon repair you just did was better than anything I taught you. You’re learning from the work itself.”

Mikoto didn’t know how to respond to that without lying or telling a truth she couldn’t tell. The Advanced Growth Rate was doing what it always did: taking experience and compressing it, turning days of practice into what felt like weeks. Every patient she healed taught her something, and whatever she learned stuck immediately. Permanently.

”I had a good teacher,” she smiled.

Ren looked at her for a beat longer than comfortable.

”Go eat,” she said. ”I think me and my medics can prevent anyone from dying without relying on a little girl.”

…

She ate in the mess tent. Rice, fish, the same bark tea. Tsuga found her there.

The Inuzuka dropped onto the bench across from her with a bowl of rice in one hand and a strip of dried meat in the other. Hai circled twice and lay down under the table with his head on Mikoto’s foot.

”He likes you,” Tsuga said, tearing the meat with her teeth. ”But don’t get a big head about it, he likes most people.”

”He’s a good boy.” Mikoto scratched the back of the dog’s head. His tail thumped against the ground happily.

”He’s the best, I know.” Tsuga grinned with all of her teeth. ”How’s Daichi?”

”Stable. He’ll wake up soon.”

”Good. I don’t want to write the letter.” She ate for a moment. ”Tetsu’s on the perimeter. He doesn’t eat in here. Says the smell bothers his insects.”

”Does it?”

”Probably. Or he just doesn’t like people. Hard to tell with Aburame.” She leaned back and looked at Mikoto across the table. ”So. Uchiha brat. What’s the plan while we’re waiting for orders?”

”Train.”

”Train what? You’re already a prodigy.”

”I want to learn lightning nature transformation.”

Tsuga’s eyebrows went up. ”You’ve got a lightning affinity?”

”Yes.”

Tsuga stared at her for a long moment. Then she shook her head and tore off another piece of meat.

”I can’t help you with lightning. I don’t really use elemental ninjutsu.” She pointed with the meat strip. ”Talk to Tetsu. Aburame don’t use it either, but he knows more about chakra theory than anyone I’ve met. Top of his class in the academy. He’ll at least know the training method.”

”I’ll ask him.”

”He’ll say yes. He won’t look happy about it, but he’ll say yes.” She told her.

“Thank you Tsuga-san.”

Tsuga shook her head again. She was smiling.

”Uchiha brat,” she said. ”You’re going to be terrifying when you grow up.”

…

She found Tetsu at the eastern perimeter, sitting on a fallen log with his hands in his pockets and his kikaichū spread in a wide net around the camp. The insects were hard to spot if you weren’t focusing. They were smaller than a fingernail.

”Tetsu-san.”

”Mikoto-san.”

”I want to train my lightning affinity. Tsuga said you might know the method.”

He was quiet for several seconds. His glasses reflected the grey sky.

”Nature transformation follows three stages,” he said. ”The first is sustaining the transformation. You take your chakra and impose the characteristics of the element onto it, then hold that state against a medium. For lightning, the standard exercise is to wrinkle a leaf using only your chakra. You channel lightning-natured chakra through it until the leaf crinkles and holds.”

”Like the chakra paper test.”

”The same principle, yes. But sustained. You hold it. The goal is to maintain the transformation without the chakra reverting to its neutral state. For the average shinobi, reaching consistency at this stage takes roughly six months.”

”And the second stage?”

”Speed and scale. How quickly can you produce lightning-natured chakra, and how much at once. You practice generating it in larger quantities, faster, until the transformation becomes instinctive rather than conscious. This is where combat application begins. If you cannot transform your chakra fast enough to keep up with a fight, the knowledge is useless.”

”And the third?”

”Integration. Merging the nature transformation with your techniques. Either consciously transforming your chakra when casting a lightning jutsu, which removes the need for the elemental hand seal, or introducing lightning nature into a non-elemental technique to give it new properties.” He paused. ”You already have water style. You should understand the process.”

”I do. But lightning feels different from fire and water. I’ve never shaped it.”

”Each element has its own essence. Fire is heat. Water is adaptation. Lightning is penetration. When you train the first stage, it helps to visualize what the element does at its core. Lightning pierces. It finds the shortest path between two points and takes it. Your chakra should do the same.”

Mikoto nodded. ”The corresponding hand seal is Snake.”

”Correct. The Snake seal converts chakra to lightning nature. As you master the transformation, you’ll need the seal less. Eventually, not at all.” He tilted his head slightly. ”You’re aware that having mastered two nature already will accelerate the process. Your chakra is already accustomed to being transformed. The pathways are familiar with the strain.”

”Thank you, Tetsu-san.”

”You saved our lives.” He nodded at her. ”This is significantly less than what I owe you.”

She bowed before walking somewhere secluded and then she trained.

In the mornings, before the medical tent needed her, she found a clearing fifty meters south of camp and drew the transformed Shark Skin.

There were no training partners. There was no one in this camp she could safely spar with using her sword without accidentally draining their chakra dry. So she fought shadows. She moved through forms, the heavy sweeping strikes that Shark Skin demanded, the wide arcs that used the sword’s weight and the shredding surface to punish anything in range. Overhead slams into the wet earth that sent mud spraying. Lateral swings at tree trunks that cracked trees. Using it like a flail with the hilt extended beyond its usual range.

She practiced the transitions. Sword to hand, hand to sword. Sheathing and drawing. She got faster.

She practiced Body Flicker with the sword drawn. Appearing at one point, swinging, vanishing, appearing at another. The sword’s weight made it harder. The momentum of a mid-swing Body Flicker wanted to pull her off balance. She trained it until it didn’t.

Shark Skin enjoyed the attention. The sword shivered against her back when she carried it and writhed in her grip when she swung. It was hungry, always hungry. But unfortunately, it would have to do with her own chakra instead of someone else’s. 

In the afternoons, she healed. Ren gave her increasingly complex cases as the days passed. A collapsed lung. A shattered kneecap. A genin whose chakra pathway system had been partially disrupted by an enemy jutsu, leaving his left arm unable to mold chakra. That one took her two hours and required her to trace the pathways with her own chakra, finding the blockages and dealing with them one by one.

Ren watched that particular procedure from start to finish.

”I couldn’t have done that,” she said afterward.

”You could have. It just would have taken longer.”

”No. I couldn’t have. The pathway system is too fine for my control. You’re working at a level I don’t have access to.” She paused. ”That boy will have full use of his arm again. Without you, he’d have been retired from service.”

Mikoto didn’t say anything. She washed her hands in the basin and dried them on the cloth that hung from the supply shelf.

In the evenings, she trained lightning.

She sat cross-legged in the clearing with a leaf held between her palms. She closed her eyes and reached for her chakra, felt the vast warm reservoir of it, and began to change it.

Fire was heat. She knew heat. Water was flow. She knew flow. Lightning was different. Lightning was sharp. It didn’t flow or burn. It jumped. It pierced. It found the gap in everything and shot through it.

She pushed the transformed chakra into the leaf. The first evening, nothing happened. The leaf sat between her palms, dark and smooth, unchanged.

The second evening, she felt something. A twitch. The faintest crackle at the edges of her perception. The chakra wanted to leap, to discharge, and she had to hold it, keep it in the leaf, force it to sustain rather than release.

The third evening, the leaf wrinkled.

Not much. A single crease across the center, barely visible in the fading light. But it was there, and she had put it there, and when she opened her palms the crease held.

She did it again. And again. By the end of the fourth evening, she could wrinkle the leaf in under ten seconds and hold the transformation for a full minute before the chakra reverted.

Tetsu, passing the clearing on his way to the perimeter, stopped and looked at the leaf in her hands.

”Four days,” he said.

”I haven’t got it yet.” Mikoto rubbed the back of her head embarrassed. She didn’t want anyone to see until she had it at an acceptable level!

”Four days,” he repeated. He adjusted his glasses. ”The average is six months.”

”I already knew how nature transformation works. Fire and water taught me the principles.”

”That is not a sufficient explanation for four days.” He looked at her for a moment. ”But it is the one I will have to accept.”

He walked on.

She kept at it. While the lightning work progressed, she sharpened fire and water alongside it.

Fire she practiced by controlling the intensity. Small flames on her fingertips that she held steady for minutes at a time without letting them grow or shrink. Fire that blazed across her hand yet not burning it alive. Fire chakra shaped and reshaped until the transformation was as natural as breathing.

Water she practiced by pulling moisture from the air. Rain Country made this absurdly easy. She’d gather water from the rain, from puddles, from the dew on leaves, and shape it. She practiced the Water Dragon jutsu’s hand seals until her fingers could weave all forty-four in four seconds flat, then worked on reducing that number.

And every day, she ran. She did push-ups and pull-ups on tree branches and squats with heavy rocks held against her chest. She stretched until her flexibility ached and then she stretched further. The body was the foundation. Chakra could enhance what was already there, but what was already there had to be worth enhancing.

…

On the fifth day after the ambush, Daichi woke up.

Mikoto was in the medical tent when it happened. She set down the roll of bandages she was carrying and walked to his cot.

His eyes opened. They were unfocused for a moment, then they found the canvas ceiling, then the tent around him, then Mikoto.

”Hey,” she said.

He blinked. He tried to say something but Mikoto couldn’t hear him. She reached for the water cup on the stool beside his cot and held it to his lips. He drank, slowly, and then lay back.

”What happened?” he asked. His voice was gravel.

”You were hit by a water jutsu. You got hurt badly. I healed you in the field and again after we got back to camp.”

”The enemy.”

”Dealt with.”

His eyes sharpened. ”Tsuga and Tetsu?”

”They’re fine.”

He closed his eyes. ”I went down first,” he realized.

”Anything could happen on the battlefield Daichi-san...”

”I took the hit because I was too slow.” He opened his eyes. ”How bad was it?”

”Bad.”

”How bad.”

She considered softening it. She didn’t.

”Your abdominal wall was torn open from your hip to your ribs. Two ribs cracked and shifted toward your lung. Your intestines were exposed. You lost enough blood to kill most people.”

He stared at the ceiling.

”And you fixed that.”

”Yes.”

”In the field. While six Ame nin were coming down a hill.”

”I had to stabilize you first. The full healing came after.”

”After what?”

”After I helped Tsuga and Tetsu deal with the enwmy.”

He turned his head to look at her. It was the same look Genmai had given her. The same look Ren had given her.

”You’re a genius, huh? I’m envious.” he smiled. ”Thank you,” he said. ”For my life.”

”You’re welcome, Daichi-san. Rest. I’ll check on you this evening.”

She left him there. She went back to work.

…

[Ding!]

[Weekly Sign-in available!]

[Signing in…]

[Obtained: Bingo Book!]

Name: Mikoto Uchiha

Age: 13

Rank: Genin

Affinity: Lightning Affinity, Fire Affinity, Yin Affinity, Water Affinity

Unique: Immense Chakra Reserves, Sharingan (Dormant), Advanced Growth Rate

Skills: Fire Style Mastery, Water Style Mastery, Clone Jutsu, Substitution Jutsu, Transformation Jutsu, Shurikenjutsu, Basic Taijutsu, Basic Genjutsu, Body Flicker, Perfect Chakra Control, Uchiha Style: Kenjutsu, Stealth, Survival Knowledge, Cooking, Medical Ninjutsu (Mystical Palm), Fūinjutsu Affinity

Equipment: Kunai, Shuriken, Smoke Bomb, Explosive Tags, Poison Gas Bomb, Flash Bomb, Gas/Sleep Bomb, Food Pills, Wire Strings, Shark Skin, Giant Folding Fan, Bingo Book

On the seventh day, they got new orders.

A jonin she hadn’t seen before walked into the camp at dawn with two other shinobi on his side, all three of them carrying the kind of dust and weariness that said they’d been running for days. He went straight to the command tent and didn’t come out for an hour.

When he did, he had a list.

Names were called. Squads assembled. The camp’s routine broke apart and reformed into something more urgent. Mikoto heard fragments of conversation as she moved between the medical tent and the mess.

”Northern position is getting hit.”

”Ame and Iwa both. Coordinated push.”

”They’re trying to break through to the river crossing.”

”If they take the crossing, the main force’s supply line gets cut.”

Tsuga found her outside the medical tent. Hai was at her side, alert, ears forward.

”We’re on the list,” Tsuga said. ”All three of us. Daichi’s staying, obviously. They’re pulling every able body.”

”What’s the mission?”

”Defensive deployment. There’s a position on the northern ridge, a relay outpost that controls sight lines over the river crossing. Ame and Iwa are pushing for it. If they take it, they can direct attacks on our supply convoys. We’re being sent to hold it.”

”How many?”

”Us, plus whatever’s left of two other squads that got chewed up last week. Maybe fifteen total.”

”Against how many?”

Tsuga’s grin was gone.

”More than fifteen.”

Mikoto looked north. The rain was coming down harder than it had all week, sheets of grey water turning the camp into a mudscape. Somewhere beyond the trees, beyond the ridgeline, a position needed holding and people were going to die over it.

”When do we leave?” she said.

”Now.”