The longer Aoki fought, the more alarmed he grew.
His father had personally taught him his taijutsu.
Among kids his age, he considered his taijutsu to be quite impressive.
Yet the Makoto Uchiha standing before him…
He was fast—far too fast.
Worse still, every single blow landed squarely on joints and soft ribs, making Aoki grimace in agony.
*Bang!* Another punch landed straight in his stomach.
Aoki let out a muffled groan, stumbling back several paces before doubling over and clutching his abdomen.
“Still want to fight?” Makoto asked.
Aoki snapped his head up, his eyes bloodshot.
“Yes!” He gritted his teeth and charged, putting every ounce of strength into this strike.
Makoto let out a soft sigh.
*Why bother?* Sidestepping the blow, Makoto caught Aoki’s swinging arm, pulled him forward with his own momentum, and swept a foot behind his legs.
*Thump!* Aoki crashed face-first into the sandy ground, getting a mouthful of dirt.
His two cronies were completely dumbfounded, and Obito’s jaw had dropped just as low.
Makoto stood in place, dusting off his hands.
“Still want to fight?” he asked once more.
Aoki lay sprawled on the sand, unmoving for a long moment.
Only after quite a while did he push himself up.
Dirt covered his face, and the corner of his lip was scraped raw.
“You…
you…” He pointed a trembling finger at Makoto.
“What about me?” Makoto walked over and squatted down in front of him.
“Do you yield?” Aoki gritted his teeth.
“If you don’t, we can go again,” Makoto said, standing back up.
“I’ll keep hitting you until you do.” Aoki stared at Makoto for a few seconds before finally hanging his head.
“…I yield.” His voice was barely louder than a mosquito’s buzz.
Makoto nodded, turning around to walk toward Obito.
The two cronies hurried over to support Aoki.
“Aoki, are you okay?” “Do you need to go to the hospital?” Aoki shoved their hands away, standing up on his own, and glared furiously at Makoto.
“Consider yourself tough today,” he spat through clenched teeth.
“But this isn’t over!” “Anytime,” Makoto replied without even looking back.
Aoki shot another harsh glare at Obito, then hobbled away with his two followers.
Quiet descended over the training ground.
Obito was still clutching Makoto’s schoolbag, his mouth hanging open wide enough to fit an egg inside.
“Makoto…
you…” he stammered.
“You really beat Aoki…” “That was amazing!
How did you train?
Teach me!
Please teach me!” Seeing Obito’s frantic excitement, the last lingering tension in Makoto’s heart finally dissolved.
*Good.
I didn’t ruin the act.* “You want to learn?” Makoto asked.
“I do!” Obito nodded like a woodpecker.
“Alright.” Makoto slung his bag over his shoulder.
“Starting today, two hours of training after school every day.” “No problem!” “No whining about being tired.” “Never!” “No slacking off.” “I swear it!” Looking at Obito’s full-blown shonen protagonist declaration posture, Makoto felt a sudden urge to laugh.
But he held it back.
“Then let me show you,” he said, turning to walk out of the training ground.
“We’ll start with the basics today.” “Basics?
What basics?” “Physical conditioning,” Makoto said without turning around.
“Start with twenty laps.” “T-Twenty laps?!” Obito’s voice cracked.
*** In the afternoon of the second day of school, Makoto sat in his usual spot—the window seat in the second-to-last row.
The king’s seat!
Resting his chin on his palm, he stared out the window at the crooked tree, though his mind was busy calculating other matters.
Yesterday, even though he had only manifested a twenty-five percent boost in strength, it had been more than enough to handle Aoki.
As for his claim yesterday about taking on three opponents with one hand, Obito had believed fifty percent of it.
If he changed his pitch today to something else, like…
As he was thinking, a burst of loud laughter suddenly erupted nearby.
Makoto turned his head.
It was Aoki’s group again.
They had surrounded Obito’s desk, their voices loud enough for the entire classroom to hear.
“Obito, if Makoto hadn’t stepped in to save your skin yesterday, do you seriously think you have what it takes to become a ninja?” Aoki crossed his arms, wearing a thoroughly punchable grin.
Obito glared at the three of them and declared bluntly, “I’m going to become a grand ninja!
I’m going to become the Hokage!” Hearing Obito’s claim, the whole classroom burst into laughter.
Aoki and his two cronies laughed with exaggerated drama.
“You?
Hokage?
Stop embarrassing the Uchiha!” Obito balled his hands into tight fists.
Watching this scene unfold, an idea suddenly struck Makoto.
*Opportunity knocked.* He stood up and walked over.
The classroom gradually grew quiet.
“Aoki,” Makoto said as he approached the group.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it was crystal clear.
Aoki turned around, his expression shifting the moment he realized it was Makoto.
“What, looking to meddle again?” “It’s not meddling,” Makoto said smoothly.
“It’s speaking reason.” “What reason?” “You called Obito a Dead-last,” Makoto said, glancing at Obito.
“I don’t see it that way.” Aoki sneered.
“If he’s not the Dead-last, who is?” Makoto turned to face the entire class.
“We all just started learning ninjutsu yesterday.
Who’s really better than anyone else?
Who’s to say Obito won’t beat you tomorrow?” The moment those words left his mouth, a wave of whispers swept through the room.
“Actually, he has a point…” “Aoki only knows basic ninjutsu because his family taught him before joining the academy.
Maybe Obito really will surpass him after a while!” Aoki was so furious he wanted to curse.
How dare anyone suggest that Uchiha Obito would ever be stronger than him?
However, that was a matter for the future.
Even if brought up now, there was no way to prove it.
Ignoring him, Makoto turned to look at Obito.
“Obito.” “Huh?” Obito raised his head, his eyes visibly rimmed with red.
“Do you think you’re a Dead-last?” Makoto asked.
Obito froze.
He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.
Makoto waited three seconds.
Seeing that Obito didn’t answer, he said softly, “I don’t think you are.” Obito’s eyes widened.
“I think,” Makoto enunciated every single word, “you are a genius.”