The first thing Chōza heard when his eyes opened was Inoichi laughing.
Why would someone be laughing in the afterlife?
The last thing he remembered was lying face-down in the dirt with his torso split open and his blood soaking into the ground and his hand touching Shikaku's, and that should have been the last thing he remembered ever, because people who felt what he'd felt didn't usually wake up.
But the canvas above him was white. The cot beneath him was thin and lumpy. His body hurt everywhere. And Inoichi was laughing like he couldn’t get enough of it in the cot next to him.
"We're alive!" Inoichi shouted. He was sitting up, his shirt gone, replaced by bandages wrapped tight around his torso from ribs to hip. His face was pale and his hair was a mess and his eyes were bright and tearful and he was grinning so hard it looked like his face might split. "Chōza! Dude, we're alive!"
Chōza sat up. Pain lanced through his back and his stomach and his everything, but he sat up, and when his eyes adjusted he could see the medical tent around him. Cots in rows. Other patients, some sleeping, some not. Sunlight coming through the canvas in pale gold bars.
He looked at his hands. They were his hands. He flexed them. They worked.
"We're really alive…" he said.
"I know!" Inoichi grabbed his arm. "I was talking to my grandma, Chōza! My dead grandma! She was standing right there in front of me and she told me it was nice catching up but it wasn’t my time yet, and then I woke up here!"
"I felt my guts falling out," Chōza said. The memory was vivid. "I swear I could feel them. The cut went all the way through. I could feel everything coming out of me."
"Both of you, please shut up." Shikaku said.
Both of them turned. Shikaku was in the cot on the other side of Inoichi, lying on his back with his arms folded behind his head. His eyes were open and fixed on the ceiling and his expression said he'd been awake for a while.
"You're disturbing everyone else." he said.
The tent was not that full. The patients who were awake were looking at them. Most of them didn't seem disturbed. A few were smiling.
"Shikaku!" Chōza's face broke into something huge. "You're okay!"
"Yeah, I guess I am."
"How are we alive?" Inoichi asked. The grin faded into something more serious, the laughter giving way to the question underneath it. "That guy was too strong."
Shikaku didn't look away from the ceiling.
"Mikoto-sensei showed up. She dealt with the jonin and healed us." Shikaku answered.
Inoichi and Chōza were quiet.
"She got there just before the sword came down on me. Another second later and I'd be dead." Shikaku continued.
The tent was very quiet now.
"If she didn't come. We would've died." Shikaku understood.
Chōza looked at his hands again. They were shaking.
"She's incredible." Inoichi said quietly.
"Yeah…" Chōza said.
Shikaku closed his eyes. "I don't know most of the details. I passed out. But she unlocked her Sharingan during the fight."
"Her Sharingan?!" Inoichi sat up straighter, wincing as his bandaged side pulled.
"She fought and killed a jonin as a chunin for us." He paused. "She's been working around the outpost the whole time we were knocked out. Waiting for us to wake up."
The three of them sat with that too.
Chōza tried to imagine what the past few days had looked like from Mikoto's side. Running back from wherever she'd been, finding the outpost under attack, finding them dying. Carrying them. Healing them. Sitting beside their cots while they slept for days and not knowing if they'd wake up.
His throat tightened.
"We owe her our lives, guys." he said.
"We already owed her our lives." Inoichi said. "From the training. From everything she taught us." He looked at his chakra blades, which someone had set on the table beside his cot. "Without what she drilled into us, we wouldn't have lasted ten seconds against that guy."
"We lasted more than ten seconds." Shikaku pointed out.
"Barely."
"Barely counts." Shikaku opened his eyes. "Chōza broke his arm. That bought time. My Shadow Possession at the end bought more. If we hadn't done what we did, Mikoto-sensei wouldn't have had anyone left to save."
Inoichi punched Chōza in the shoulder. Chōza punched him back. Shikaku ignored both of them.
A thought crossed Inoichi's face. Something he'd been chewing on.
"When we get back to camp," he said slowly, "they'll probably assign us a proper jonin-sensei at some point. Right? That's how it works. Mikoto-sensei is a chunin. She's supposed to be temporary."
Nobody said anything for a moment.
"I don't want a different sensei." Chōza said.
"Me neither."
Shikaku rubbed the back of his head with an irritated look on his face. "We'll deal with that when it comes."
But the way he said it told Inoichi and Chōza everything about how he felt too.
"Did we fail the mission again? The outpost got attacked." Inoichi asked, changing the subject.
"Our mission was to deliver the supplies. We delivered them. The attack happened after." Chōza said.
"It might get bumped up in classification though. If the mission gets reclassified because of the attack, the pay rate should increase." Shikaku stated.
Inoichi stared at him. "We almost died and you're thinking about money?"
"Someone has to."
"You're unbelievable."
"Growing stronger takes money."
Chōza's stomach growled. The sound was so loud that two patients on the far side of the tent looked over.
"I haven't eaten in days…" Chōza explained.
"You were unconscious for days. So that adds up." Shikaku said.
"My stomach is killing me!!!"
“I never seen you look so slim, dude. Actually, now that I look at you, why do you look so handsome slimmed down?!” Inoichi felt threatened. “We need some food in you immediately!”
“R-Really? Maybe we can hold off on the food for a bit? I think I saw a cute genin when we got here the other day. I wanna see what she thinks before I refuel myself.” Chōza said.
Both Shikaku and Inoichi were stunned silent. Chōza, choosing something else, over eating?!
“Who are you and what did you do to my best friend?!” Inoichi lunged at him shaking him. “I know you’re using the transformation jutsu! Where is he!?”
“G-G-Get off!!!” Choza shoved Inoichi away before rubbing his throat. “I think about more things than eating, you know?!” His face was red.
“I’m in a genjutsu, aren’t I, Shikaku? What the hell is that faker saying? My best friend would never say some crap like that. We gotta capture him and torture him to find out where the real Chōza is.” Inoichi decided.
“I’m just as surprised as you, but no, that is our bud Chōza. I got hurt the least and I’ve been watching over you two whenever Mikoto-sensei wasn’t pulled away by the other injuried patients. No one managed to swap places with our friend.” Shikaku shook his head.
“When I’m fully healed, I’m pummeling you both.” Choza swore.
“For what?! Stating the truth? You got to be honest, what other than eating, do you even like to do!? See! You can’t even name three things!” Inoichi shouted.
“At least give me the chance to say something! Don’t just decide already!” Chōza yelled back. “I like training under Mikoto-sensei, I like cooking which is not eating, cooking is completely different from eating, and probably criticizing and reviewing restaurants. And there is more to restaurants than food! There’s the ambience, there’s the atmosphere, there’s a bunch of other stuff than just food!”
Inoichi, Shikaku, and some of the other patients started laughing.
[Ding!]
[Weekly Sign-in available!]
[Signing in…]
[Obtained: Craftsmanship Aptitude!]
Name: Mikoto Uchiha
Age: 13
Rank: Chunin
Affinity: Lightning Affinity, Fire Affinity, Yin Affinity, Water Affinity
Unique: Immense Chakra Reserves, Sharingan (Two Tomoe), Advanced Growth Rate
Skills: Fire Style Mastery, Water Style Mastery, Lightning Style Mastery, Yin Style Mastery, Clone Jutsu, Substitution Jutsu, Transformation Jutsu, Shurikenjutsu, Advanced Taijutsu, Elite Genjutsu, Body Flicker, Perfect Chakra Control, Uchiha Style: Kenjutsu, Stealth, Survival Knowledge, Cooking, Medical Ninjutsu (Mystical Palm), Fūinjutsu Affinity, Pedagogy Mastery, Space-Time Ninjutsu Affinity, Seven Heavens Breathing Method, Musical Talent, Craftsmanship Aptitude
Equipment: Kunai, Shuriken, Smoke Bomb, Explosive Tags, Poison Gas Bomb, Flash Bomb, Gas/Sleep Bomb, Food Pills x103, Wire Strings, Shark Skin, Giant Folding Fan, Bingo Book, Training Weights, Fūma Shuriken x100, Hero Water x10
Mikoto sat across from Haruna in the outpost's makeshift command room. It had been the storage closet before the attack. The actual command room was missing a wall.
The outpost looked different than it had a week ago. Earth style users from the reinforcement party had rebuilt most of the walls, the packed dirt and stone rising back up around the compound in fresh brown ridges that hadn't weathered yet. New watch positions dotted the perimeter. Patrols came and went at shorter intervals than before, and the sentries at the gate stood in pairs now instead of alone.
Mikoto had helped where she could. She healed every wounded shinobi the reinforcements brought in and every one that was already there. Her Sharingan made the work faster and easier than before.
Between healing, she cooked. She cleaned. She helped sort the salvaged supplies and carried debris from the collapsed sections of the wall. She worked without being asked and without stopping, because stopping meant sitting, and sitting meant thinking about things she couldn’t do anything about.
Haruna watched her across the room. The special jonin had a cut above her left eye that Mikoto had sealed on the night of the attack and a bruise along her jaw that was fading to yellow.
"You've been at it nonstop since the attack," Haruna said. "The medics tell me you've treated more patients than the rest of them combined. The reconstruction crew says you've been hauling stone alongside the earth style users. And the mess cook says someone keeps sneaking into his tent at four in the morning to prep food."
Mikoto folded her hands in her lap. "I just want to help."
"You are helping. That's the point." Haruna leaned back in her chair. "You know, when they told me a chunin with a genin squad was being assigned to a supply escort to my outpost, I thought it was going to be routine. Drop off the crates, feed the kids, send them home. I certainly didn't expect any of this."
"I'm sorry for the trouble."
"Stop apologizing. If you hadn't been here, this outpost would have fallen."
Haruna paused.
"I actually regret sending you away at all. If I knew how strong you were, I probably would’ve just sent someone else. I didn't expect an attack in a place like this, but that's not an excuse. A special jonin should certainly plan for what shouldn't happen."
"You couldn't have known, Haruna-san."
"No. But I should have been more careful." She let out a breath. "Regardless. You've shown me more in one week than most chunin show in a year. Medical ninjutsu, fire style, swordsmanship, genjutsu. And now the Sharingan."
Mikoto's hand went to her face without thinking. She'd been keeping the Sharingan active since the night of the attack. With her reserves, the drain was so small she barely noticed it.
"How is it?" Haruna said. "I always heard about it."
"It helps a lot... I can see things I couldn't before."
"It'll help with everything, I heard." Haruna folded her arms. "Mikoto, I'm going to be honest with you. You're close to jonin."
Mikoto blinked.
"Don't look so surprised. You have medical ninjutsu that rivals dedicated medic-nin. Fire, water, and lightning style mastery. Swordsmanship that's landed you in enemy bingo books. Genjutsu. And now the Sharingan, which is only going to sharpen all of those." She held up a finger. "What you need is more time in command, more senior shinobi willing to vouch for you, and proof that you can produce capable shinobi. That last one matters. Konoha promotes people who can make other people dangerous, not just people who are dangerous themselves."
"I still have a lot to learn…" Mikoto said.
"Everyone does. That's not the same as not being ready." Haruna looked at her steadily. "Your genin held off a jonin. Those boys fought like that because of you. Because of what you put into them. Keep doing what you're doing." Haruna said. "The rest will come."
The door burst open.
A young shinobi, one of the reinforcement party, stood in the doorway with his hand still on the frame. His face was flushed from running.
"Sorry for the intrusion, Haruna-san! Mikoto-san, your squad is awake!"
Mikoto stood up so fast her chair scraped across the floor. She looked at Haruna, her mouth opening to excuse herself properly, her hands already clasped to bow.
Haruna smiled. The special jonin had seen many things in her career, but the expression on Mikoto Uchiha's face right now, barely contained joy fighting against the girl's stubborn need to be polite, was one of the better ones.
"Go," she waved her out.
Mikoto bowed, turned, and vanished.
The Body Flicker left a small gust of leaves that knocked a stack of papers off Haruna's desk. She watched them flutter to the floor and didn't bother picking them up.
…
The medical tent was not quiet when she arrived.
Chōza had Inoichi in a headlock. Inoichi was trying to elbow his way free while simultaneously attempting to kick Chōza's shin. They were both still bandaged, both still pale, both grunting with the effort of a wrestling match that neither of them had the stamina for. Shikaku sat cross-legged on his cot with a book in one hand and a leaf in other hand, channeling earth chakra into it while ignoring the chaos three feet away from him.
The other patients were watching them with expressions ranging from amusement to mild concern.
Mikoto appeared in the tent entrance. Red eyes bright. Chest heaving from the sprint she hadn't needed to sprint.
Every head in the tent turned.
"Mikoto-chan!" a man with his arm in a sling called out from the far row. The one whose shattered elbow she'd rebuilt two days ago.
"It's Mikoto-chan!" a woman on the east row said. The one whose collapsed lung she'd reinflated.
"Mikoto-san!" from a chunin near the door. The one she'd pulled back from the edge after a kunai had nicked his femoral artery.
Chōza and Inoichi froze mid-wrestle. Shikaku's leaf cracked down the middle from a sudden spike in his chakra.
Three pairs of eyes locked onto her. Three faces broke open at once.
"MIKOTO-SENSEI!"
They all started talking over each other.
"Sensei, your eyes are so cool!"
"Shikaku told us everything!"
"I can't believe you fought a jonin!"
"I felt my guts falling out, sensei, I swear I felt them, and you just put them back!"
"I was literally talking to my dead grandma in the afterlife!"
"Your Sharingan looks awesome!"
Mikoto crossed the tent in three steps. She grabbed Inoichi first because he was closest. She pulled him into a hug that pressed his face into her shoulder and her arms around his back and she held him tight enough that he made a small surprised sound.
She let go of Inoichi and grabbed Chōza next. The Akimichi was bigger than her but the hug she gave him made him look small. She squeezed and he wheezed and she didn't let go for a long time.
She turned to Shikaku. He was still sitting on his cot with the cracked leaf in his hand and an expression that said he knew what was coming and had accepted his fate.
She hugged him. He didn't hug back. His ears went red.
Then she was checking them. The Sharingan spun as her eyes moved over Inoichi's torso, looking for anything she'd missed. She pressed her fingers against his ribs. She tilted his chin up and looked at his pupils.
"Any pain here?"
"No."
"Here?"
"No."
"What about when you breathe deep?"
"I'm fine, sens-"
She was already on Chōza. Her hands were on his back, the Sharingan tracking the scar tissue where the wound had closed. She pressed along the line of the healed cut, feeling the muscle beneath, checking the density of the repair.
"Does this hurt?"
"A little sore but-"
"What about this?"
"Sensei, I'm okay, really-"
"Turn around. Let me see the front."
"Mikoto-sensei!"
She moved to Shikaku. She checked his ribs, his chakra flow, the healed fractures. She lifted his shirt without asking and pressed her palm flat against his side.
"Sensei." Shikaku's face was the color of a tomato. Other patients were watching. "Please."
"One more second."
"People are staring."
"Good. Then they can see that I care about my comrades." She pressed a spot near his lower rib. "Does this hurt?"
"Only my dignity as a man."
She checked it again anyway.
"We're fine!" Inoichi stated, pulling his shirt down where she'd bunched it up.
"Please, sensei, we're really okay." Chōza pleaded, gently patting her hands away from his back.
"What a drag..." Shikaku said. But there was a small smile on his face that he couldn't quite hide.
Mikoto looked at them. All three. Sitting up. Talking. Breathing. Flushed with embarrassment instead of blood loss.
Her eyes stung.
"I'm so glad you all are alright..."
Her voice came out smaller than she meant it to.
"Of course we are," Chōza said. He sat up straight and flexed his right arm. The muscle was growing, but he squeezed it like it was the most impressive thing in the world. "We're built strong!"
"We're built awesome!" Inoichi added, flexing his own arm beside Chōza's. His was thinner. He flexed harder to compensate.
Both of them looked at Shikaku.
He sighed. The flush on his face deepened by a shade.
"And we're built intelligently…" he said. His voice was flat but his face gave him away completely.
The medical tent erupted in laughter. The man with the sling. The woman with the repaired lung. The chunin near the door. Half a dozen patients who had spent the last week watching Mikoto work herself to the bone for every person in this tent, laughing because three bruised boys were flexing for their sensei and their sensei was trying not to cry.
Chōza's face went red. Inoichi's went redder. Shikaku looked like he wanted the cot to swallow him.
"When can we leave?!" Inoichi asked, desperate to change the subject.
"We can go after we fill your bellies," Mikoto said, reaching into her pouch and pulling out a scroll. "I know you're starving."
Chōza's eyes went wide.
"Mikoto-sensei knows us so well..." he breathed.
"Anyone would be starving after being knocked out for so long," Shikaku murmured.
Mikoto unrolled the scroll on the floor between their cots. She pressed her palm to the seal. Chakra pulsed, smoke curled, and when it cleared there was food.
Grilled fish with herbs, the skin crisp and golden, the flesh flaking off the bone in white layers. Rice, fluffy and seasoned, still warm from the seal's preservation. A pot of miso soup with chunks of tofu and seaweed floating in a broth that smelled like someone's kitchen back home. Pickled vegetables arranged in a neat row, bright and sharp. Sliced fruit, whatever she'd been able to find growing near the outpost, cut thin and fanned across a plate.
"Mikoto-sensei is an angel..." Chōza was already crying. Tears, rolling down his round cheeks and dripping onto his bandages. He was the first one eating, both hands moving, chopsticks in one and a rice ball in the other.
"I couldn't ask for a better sensei…" Inoichi said, picking up his own chopsticks and diving in.
"When did you even think to make this?" Shikaku asked, eating as well.
"I usually keep cooked food stored on me for emergency rations," Mikoto said. She was sitting on the floor between their cots with her legs tucked under her, watching them eat. "But this was for when I saw you guys were out for longer than two days. I wanted to have something ready."
Shikaku paused mid-bite. He looked at the food. He looked at Mikoto.
She'd made this while they were unconscious. While she was healing the outpost and rebuilding walls and treating patients and waiting by their cots. Somewhere in between all of that, she'd found time to cook a full meal and seal it in a scroll, just in case they woke up hungry.
He ate the rest of his rice without saying anything.
The smell had carried.
A patient three cots down, a genin with a splinted leg who'd been staring at the ceiling all morning, turned his head toward the food. His nose twitched. His eyes found the spread on the floor and his expression became something close to anguish.
"Do you have any leftovers, Mikoto-chan?" he asked. His voice was hesitant, the voice of a man who knew he was asking a lot but couldn't help himself.
Mikoto put on a thinking face. Her finger tapped her chin.
"Let me go hunt something," she said. "I can probably fix up a feast before we have to head back."
"Thank you, Mikoto-chan!!!" The response came from every occupied cot at once, a chorus of gratitude so loud and so sudden that Chōza choked on his rice ball and Inoichi had to slap his back.
Mikoto giggled. She stood, dusted off her knees, and disappeared.
The Body Flicker left the tent flap swinging.
Chōza coughed the last grain free and looked at the empty space where his sensei had been standing.
"I forgot to tell her I activated the first stage." he said.
"Oh yeah, how did you even figure it out anyway?" Inoichi said.
“Uhhhh...” Chōza was wondering how to explain it.
“And don’t just say you did it...” Shikaku set his chopsticks down across the empty bowl.
“I can totally explain it.” Chōza puffed his chest out.