Makoto Uchiha squatted at the edge of the training ground, staring at a line of ants moving across the dirt.
He sighed, stood up, and patted the dust off his pants.
“Late again.” He glanced at the position of the sun.
Nearly half an hour had passed, and Obito was nowhere to be seen.
Unexpected?
Not really.
In the original story, Obito was the undisputed king of tardiness—a guy who managed to be late even to his graduation exam.
By canon logic, if he wasn’t helping an old lady cross the street, he was helping a lost kid find their mother or rescuing a cat stuck up a tree somewhere.
“Obito Uchiha, Model Citizen,” Makoto muttered under his breath.
He didn’t bother going to drag Obito back.
First, he was too lazy to run around.
Second, he could use the time to figure out how to cram the theory behind Geppo into Obito’s head.
“I need to come up with a convincing story,” Makoto thought, stroking his chin.
After another ten minutes, a familiar figure finally appeared at the entrance of the training ground.
“Brother Makoto!
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Obito ran over, out of breath.
The goggles on his forehead were lopsided, his face was smudged with dirt, and his clothes were rumpled—he clearly looked like he had just come from an adventure.
“Rescuing a cat or helping an old lady this time?” Makoto asked.
“Huh?” Obito blinked, then scratched his head sheepishly.
“Neither…
A little girl’s kite blew away, so I went to help her get it back.” Makoto sighed.
“Alright, let’s start training.
Any later and the sun will set.” “Yes!” Obito straightened up, his expression turning serious.
He began holding his breath, trying to use Flowing Iron Body to harden his right arm.
He strained.
And strained.
His face turned bright red.
The muscles in his right arm indeed tightened, and a faint metallic sheen surfaced on his skin.
The problem was that his entire left arm, along with half his body, went completely stiff with it.
“Relax!” Makoto shouted.
“Harden only your right arm!
Don’t freeze up anywhere else!” “I-I’m trying!” Obito gritted out through his teeth.
Five seconds later, he deflated with a *pfft*, collapsing onto the ground and gasping for air.
“I can’t…
Brother Makoto, I really can’t do it.” Obito looked at his right hand, his expression crestfallen.
“You’ve already mastered it, but I’ve been practicing for so long and can’t even harden a single hand properly.” Makoto squatted down and looked at him.
“Obito, everyone has different talents.
You’ve already done very well.” “Others might not pick up this Taijutsu as fast as you.” Obito blinked.
“Then how did you master it so fast, Brother Makoto?” “I’m a special case.” Makoto pointed to his own head.
“All my talent points probably went into ‘Ninjutsu Development.’ Just like how some people are born fast runners and others are born strong, I was probably born with…
an unusually wild imagination.” Obito half-understood.
“So don’t compare your progress to mine,” Makoto continued.
“Comparing your weaknesses to someone else’s strengths is just making trouble for yourself.
The only person you should compare yourself to is who you were yesterday.” “Yesterday’s me…” Obito pondered.
“I think yesterday’s me was just as terrible.” Makoto: “…” *This kid actually has decent self-awareness.* “Then look at it another way.” Makoto tried a different approach.
“If you can’t master it right now, what does that mean?
It means you have huge room for growth!
Look at me—I’ve already mastered it, so I have no room left to grow.
How tragic is that?” Obito’s eyes slowly lit up.
“That…
actually makes sense?” “Of course.” Makoto patted his shoulder.
“Going from zero to sixty is way easier than going from ninety to a hundred.
Right now, you’re starting from zero, so every step forward is progress.” Obito sat up and nodded vigorously.
“You’re right, Brother Makoto!
I have huge room for growth!” “That’s the spirit.” Makoto stood up.
“Come on, let’s keep going.” For the rest of the session, Obito was much more focused.
Although he still couldn’t pull off Flowing Iron Body properly—either his entire body froze or only his fingertips hardened for a tenth of a second—he stopped complaining and feeling down.
Instead, after every failure, he took a deep breath and tried again.
Watching from the side, Makoto was actually a bit surprised.
Setting aside his outward persona as a king of tardiness and a hotheaded idiot, Obito was surprisingly resilient when it came to training.
Moreover, looking closely, one could tell this guy wasn’t stupid at all.
He possessed a foolish front masking latent brilliance.
Take Flowing Iron Body, for instance.
Its principle was localized hardening.
Obito couldn’t do it not because he couldn’t comprehend the theory, but because his physical control wasn’t precise enough yet.
However, his Chakra reserves were deep and his explosive power was high, as evidenced by the sharp surge of Chakra that rippled out every time his hardening failed.
*This guy…* Makoto mused internally.
*Should I tailor a training plan specifically for him?* Where did Obito’s true talent lie?
Scenes from the original story flashed through Makoto’s mind.
Spacetime Ninjutsu.
Kamui was a top-tier cheat code across the entire world.
The fact that Obito could wield it so effortlessly showed that he had an innate affinity for space—an abstract gift, much like how some people were naturally born with perfect pitch or a flawless sense of direction.
Yet Makoto didn’t dare touch that area.
If he actually turned Obito into a master of Spacetime Ninjutsu, what would happen if the kid went dark later on?
An Obito Uchiha with basic Kamui was already troublesome enough.
If he managed to pull off crazy advanced tricks with Kamui on top of that, things would get completely out of hand.
*Better guide him toward a safer direction,* Makoto thought.
What other talents did Obito have?
Fire Style.
In canon, Obito’s Great Fireball Jutsu was quite impressive.
Within the Uchiha Clan, anyone who could master the Great Fireball Jutsu while still at the Ninja Academy was considered exceptional.
*Maybe I can steer him down that path…* Makoto pondered.
Just then, Obito failed another attempt and sat down on the dirt, huffing.
“Brother Makoto,” Obito suddenly spoke up.
“Am I…
just not cut out for Taijutsu?” “Why do you say that?” “Because I’m learning so slowly.” Obito looked down at his hands.
Makoto sat down beside him.
“Everyone’s suited for a different path.
It’s like how some people fight best with a sword while others prefer a Kunai.
Forcing yourself to use the wrong weapon only keeps you from showing your true strength.” Obito looked up at him.
“Obito, do you know where your advantage lies?” Makoto asked.
“Where?” “Your Chakra reserves are deep,” Makoto said.
“And your explosive power is high.
That kind of constitution is actually perfect for learning…
Ninjutsu that requires bursting out massive amounts of Chakra in an instant.” Like Fire Style.
However, Makoto didn’t say it aloud.
Certain things were better left for the person to realize on their own.
“Really?” Obito’s eyes lit up again.
“Really,” Makoto nodded.
“So don’t lose heart.
Finding the right path is far more important than charging ahead blindly.” After resting for a moment, Makoto stood up.
“Let’s have a sparring match,” he said.
“I’ll use standard Iron Body, and you use Flowing Iron Body—use it as best as you can.”