Another Boring Uchiha Power Fantasy.

They were smaller than she expected.

The first one she noticed was the biggest, which wasn’t saying much. A round boy with ruddy cheeks and purple facial markings, carrying a bag slung over his shoulder that clinked with what sounded like containers of food. He was eating a rice ball when she walked up, and he stopped mid-bite to look at her. He looked surprised to see her.

The second was leaning against the gate post with his hands in his pockets. Dark hair pulled up in a spiky ponytail. Dark eyes that moved over her face, her vest, and the bandaged sword on her back in a single lazy sweep. He didn’t straighten up when he saw her. But his eyebrow raised when he saw the vest on her.

The third stood between them with his hands at his sides and his chin up. Ash blond hair, long for a boy his age, and sharp green eyes that held her gaze without flinching. He was the calmest of the three.

Three eleven-year-olds. Fresh forehead protectors. Clean clothes that hadn’t been rained on for weeks. Faces that hadn’t seen real battle.

Mikoto smiled.

”Good afternoon,” she said. ”I’m looking for Nara Shikaku, Yamanaka Inoichi, and Akimichi Chōza. Would that be you three?”

The round one swallowed his rice ball. ”That’s us. I’m Chōza.” He patted his chest and then pointed. ”That’s Shikaku, and that’s Inoichi.”

”Pleasure to meet you all.” She bowed, short and proper. ”I’m Uchiha Mikoto. I’ll be your captain for the time being.”

Shikaku’s eyes moved from her face to her vest. ”You’re a chunin?”

”I am.”

”How old are you?”

”Thirteen.”

Inoichi and Chōza’s eyes widened even further. This girl was going to lead them?! She was only two years older than them! Chōza looked between his two teammates and then back at Mikoto.

”How did you make chunin at thirteen?” Shikaku asked.

”Some people believed I deserved the vest… So some things happened and here I am.”

”That’s vague.”

”It is.” She rubbed the back of her head. ”You’ll get to know me over time. For now, follow me. I’ll show you around camp so you know where everything is.”

She turned and started walking. After a beat, three sets of footsteps followed.

Mikoto gave them a tour of the camp.

”Mess tent is here. Food isn’t the best, but it’s hot and there’s always rice. If you miss a meal, you go hungry. Nobody saves plates.”

Chōza peered inside the mess tent with visible interest. ”How many meals a day?”

”Three. Sometimes two if things are busy.”

”That’s not fine at all!” Chōza complained.

“Haha, looks like you’re gonna have to go on a diet, Chōza.” Inoichi patted his shoulder.

“There might be exceptions to Akimichi, but I’m not sure on that. I’ll ask for you. Your clan’s jutsu has to do with eating, right?”

“Right! If I don’t eat, I can’t do anything!” Chōza argued.

“I’ll see what I can do, Chōza-kun.” Mikoto told him.

They passed the supply tent. The communication post. The latrine area, which Mikoto pointed at without lingering. The barracks, where she showed them the row of cots they’d been assigned, four in a line, hers at the end nearest the door.

”Keep your gear organized and your weapons accessible. You don’t want to be fumbling for a kunai in the dark because you left it under your cot.”

A voice called out from across the path.

”Oi, Mikoto-chan!”

A chunin she recognized from the mess tent, the one with the singed eyebrows she’d healed, was grinning at her from the doorway of the supply tent. He looked at the three genin trailing behind her and his grin widened.

”Sensei now? Look at you.”

”Temporary captain.” she corrected.

”Sure, sure. Don’t go too easy on them, yeah? We need warm bodies out here.” He winked at the genin. ”You three got lucky. Stick close to her and you’ll be fine.”

Chōza waved. Shikaku didn’t. Inoichi waved kindly as well.

They kept walking.

It happened again at the medical tent. Mikoto led them inside to introduce Ren, who was wrapping a bandage around a man’s forearm expressionless telling him to stop whining.

”Ren-sensei,” Mikoto said. ”These are my genin. Nara Shikaku, Yamanaka Inoichi, Akimichi Chōza.”

Ren glanced up. She looked at each of them for exactly one second, then looked at Mikoto.

”You boys listen to her. You got lucky to have a skilled medical-nin for a teacher. Not many teams even get one medical-nin.” She finished the bandage and turned back to her patient.

“Yes ma’am!” Chōza and Inoichi saluted.

“Understood.” Shikaku nodded.

As they left the medical tent, Chōza leaned toward Inoichi. ”She’s scary.”

“I know right… It felt like I was being stared at by my father after the teacher told him I was fooling around at school.”

”She’s good at her job.” Mikoto said without turning around.

They passed two more shinobi on the path who greeted Mikoto by name. One of them, a woman with her arm in a sling, stopped to squeeze Mikoto’s shoulder.

”Good to see you on your feet, girl. My hand is still working because of you!”

”I’m glad, Yui-san.” Mikoto was happy to hear.

”Who are the little ones?”

”My new squad.”

Yui looked at them and smiled. ”Already? You kids got lucky with this captain.” She walked on.

Shikaku had been watching carefully. When they moved past the command tent and Mikoto pointed out the jonin’s quarters, he spoke up.

”Everyone here knows you.”

”It’s a small camp.”

”That’s not what I mean. They know you. Personally.” His dark eyes were steady. ”What did you do?”

”I’m a medical-nin, kind of. Not officially, but I know the healing jutsu and help out often at the medical tent.” She led them past the command tent. ”This is where you report if you’re ever summoned by the commander. Don’t go in unless you’re told to. The man running the northern sector is Commander Hayama. You probably won’t meet him, but if you do, be respectful as you would with any superior.”

Shikaku didn’t press further. 

She took them to the clearing.

It was fifty meters south of camp, the same clearing where she trained every morning. The grass was flattened. The tree trunks were scarred. The ground was soft from the rain that had let up an hour ago but would start again soon.

Mikoto stopped at the center and turned to face them. The three genin stood in a loose cluster, Chōza slightly behind, Inoichi in the center, Shikaku to the left with his hands still in his pockets.

”So,” Chōza said. ”What are we going to be doing? What should we expect?”

”For now, you’re going to be doing missions appropriate for your level. D-rank. C-rank.”

Inoichi’s eyebrows rose slightly. ”Oh, that sounds easy.”

”I hope so.” She paused. ”Things aren’t usually so simple in a war...”

Chōza shifted his bag on his shoulder. ”When do we start?”

”Whenever we’re called for.” She took a step back and set her feet. ”For now though, I need to know where you are. All three of you, come at me. Fight me like you mean to kill me.”

The clearing went very quiet.

”We just got here…” Inoichi said.

”I know.”

”And you want us to fight you?”

”I want you to try. I need to see where you’re at. I can’t train you guys like I should if I don’t know what you can do.” She looked at each of them. ”Don’t hold back. Come at me with everything you have.”

Shikaku’s eyes had narrowed. The gears were turning. Chōza had set his bag down and grabbed his bo staff on his back, uncertain but willing. Inoichi readied himself.

They spread out without discussing it. Shikaku drifted left. Chōza moved right. Inoichi held the center.

They tensed. Shikaku’s fingers twitched toward a seal. Chōza dropped into a fighting stance with his staff. Inoichi’s hands came up, forming the beginning of a technique.

They were about to move.

Mikoto let them feel it.

The killing intent hit the clearing like a physical force. It came from the part of her that had stood on a ridge in the rain and killed several men in one night. From the part of her that had felt Shark Skin cleave through a man’s chest and felt nothing but the warm pulse of stolen chakra. From every life she had taken in three weeks of war, compressed into a single wave of pure murderous intent that rolled across the clearing and crashed into the three children standing in front of her.

Chōza’s legs buckled. He went to his knees like someone had cut the strings holding him up. His face went white. His hands clawed at the grass. His eyes were open but they weren’t seeing the clearing anymore. They were seeing something else. Something that made his whole body shake.

Inoichi froze mid-seal. His green eyes went glassy, the focus draining from them. His mouth opened but nothing came out. His hands dropped to his sides. He was still standing but barely, his body swaying, and his eyes were sliding toward something distant and empty.

Shikaku locked up. Every muscle in his body went rigid. His face twisted. His pupils shrank to pinpoints and his breath stopped in his chest and for two seconds he stood there seeing his own death at the hands of the girl in front of him, the sword coming down, the weapon cleaving him in half, the darkness after.

He bit his tongue. Hard enough to draw blood. The pain cut through the vision like a knife through silk.

He gasped deeply. The clearing came back. The grass. The trees. The sky. Mikoto, standing five meters away, watching him with an expression that gave away nothing.

He spun toward Inoichi. The blond boy was seconds from going under, his eyes nearly rolled back.

”INOICHI!” Shikaku’s voice cracked across the clearing. ”Snap out of it!”

Inoichi blinked. His eyes refocused. His hands came up shakily but they came up. He was back.

Shikaku turned to Chōza. The Akimichi was still on his knees, trembling, his face buried in his hands. He wasn’t coming back on his own.

Shikaku crossed the distance and smacked him across the face. Open palm, hard enough to sting.

Chōza’s head snapped sideways. His eyes cleared. He looked up at Shikaku with an expression of confused hurt, and then he looked at Mikoto, and then he looked at the grass under his hands, and he understood.

The killing intent faded. The clearing was just a clearing again.

A small crowd had formed at the treeline. Shinobi from the camp, drawn by the pressure, watching from a safe distance. Some of them had their arms folded. Some of them were chatting to each other. Some of them were laughing.

Mikoto looked at her three genin. Chōza on his knees, breathing hard. Inoichi standing but pale, his hands still shaking. Shikaku with blood on his lip and his fists clenched at his sides, staring at her with eyes that held fear and anger and the need to understand.

”Shikaku,” she said. ”Your response was good. You broke free faster than most genin would. Biting your tongue was smart. Pain helps bring you back to reality.”

He didn’t answer. Blood dripped from his chin.

”But it took you four seconds to recover and another three to get to your teammates. On a battlefield, those seven seconds would have killed all three of you.” She looked at Inoichi. ”You were a second from losing consciousness. If Shikaku hadn’t called your name, you’d be unconscious.” She looked at Chōza. ”You needed physical contact to come back. A slap. In a fight, nobody can afford to stop what they’re doing to slap you awake.”

Chōza wiped his face with the back of his hand. His eyes were wet but his jaw was tight.

”That wasn’t a jutsu, was it?” Shikaku said. His voice was rough. ”What was that…?”

”Murderous intent.”

”You’ve killed people. A lot of people.”

”Yes.” Mikoto wasn’t proud of it, but it was her duty…

Shikaku stared at her.

”What you just felt is what every enemy you face will try to use against you. Some will be weaker than what I just showed you. Some will be worse. If you freeze on a battlefield, you die. It’s that simple.” She took a step forward. ”I will do whatever it takes to make sure you three survive this war. Even if it has to hurt. A lot.”

She looked at each of them in turn. Chōza, still on his knees. Inoichi, still pale. Shikaku, still bleeding.

Three eleven-year-old children who had walked through a gate an hour ago with clean clothes and full stomachs and no idea what the world was going to ask of them.

She would keep them alive. Whatever it cost.

”Get up,” she said. ”We’re not done yet.”

Chōza pushed himself to his feet. Inoichi steadied his breathing. Shikaku wiped the blood from his chin with his sleeve.

They got ready.