Uchiha Clan Grounds, Elder’s Training Field.
The trio was assembled, and Uchiha Fugaku had arrived as the guest of honor.
Fanma was discussing the application of chakra in taijutsu with Kushina; the “Little Red Hot Habanero” had excitement burning in her eyes as she gestured wildly, gathering chakra into her fist.
She clearly loved this aggressive style of combat.
Minato was hunched over a draft sheet, meticulously copying the Flying Raijin scroll.
He could feel it in his bones—this technique was born for him.
The somewhat introverted Minato couldn’t wait to master it.
He had already composed names for twelve different variations, such as: “Leaf Chaotic Gale Wave Vortex Triple Strike”…
It would be so cool.
Imagine shouting those flashy names and instantly defeating an enemy…
Heh heh.
As for Nawaki, he was late.
Tsunade was dragging him along at top speed.
“——I’m sorry, Fanma-sensei!!” Nawaki finally arrived thirty minutes late, breathless.
Tsunade stood by him, wearing an apologetic smile while glaring daggers at him.
Seeing Tsunade, Fanma’s face softened into a warm smile.
He Body-Flickered to her side and whispered in her ear: “It’s only been a day, but I missed you again.” We literally ate breakfast and did morning training together today, hmph…
Tsunade thought to herself, though her heart fluttered.
She rolled her eyes beautifully and, in a voice loud enough for the entire Uchiha district to hear, shouted: “Did everyone hear that?
I’m Tsunade, and Uchiha Fanma—he says he misses me!!” A brief silence followed, then the young Uchiha in the training grounds erupted into cheers and jeers.
“Fanma-bro, did you miss us too?” “Fanma-bro, are you sure you can handle a girl from the Senju clan?” Fanma smiled.
Tsunade’s boldness, fiery temperament, and extraordinary intelligence were exactly what attracted him.
He drew a deep breath and roared back for all to hear: “Tsunade, I miss you!!” Cheers, catcalls, and songs echoed around the Uchiha compound.
If one listened closely, they could even hear the voice of the old geezer Setsuna joining in.
This wasn’t just a display of affection; it was a public declaration of Tsunade’s presence in the Uchiha clan—a litmus test for their attitude.
A marriage between the Senju and Uchiha was a first in a thousand years.
Since time immemorial, marriage had been the best method to resolve conflicts and build trust.
Given their pedigrees—one a former clan elder and disciple of Tobirama, the other the granddaughter of Hashirama—they were a perfect match.
Aside from the blood feuds of the past few generations, they were a match made in heaven.
In the Warring States period, this would have signaled a potential merger of the two clans.
Even today, it carried massive implications for the structure of Konoha.
So far, the clan members seemed quite positive about this “marriage alliance.” The trio of kids, however, just pouted.
They felt that these two were far too old to be acting so recklessly.
Uchiha Fugaku saw further; he understood the weight of the union between Tsunade and Fanma.
Watching them with a hint of envy, he realized that for those with true power, a clan was never a shackle—it was merely a shield.
Fanma cleared his throat, signaling Fugaku and Nawaki to step forward for the teaching session.
“Nawaki, I believe you know Fugaku.
You’re classmates at the Academy.
He was recently promoted to Chunin.
Today is a live combat lesson.
Both sides are to give it their all.
If there’s any real danger, I will intervene.” He gave Fugaku a look, and the boy wore an expression of clear impatience.
For Fugaku, fighting a kid like Nawaki was utterly boring.
“——Start.” Nawaki drew his tools and shouted at Fugaku: “Fugaku, you old-faced bastard!
Fighting me is an honor you don’t deserve!” He was frustrated by Fugaku’s dismissive attitude.
So what if you’re a Chunin?
I am the man who will become Hokage!
Fugaku’s face grew darker.
In truth, his prominent tear troughs were a frequent target for jokes within the clan—even his crush, Uchiha Mikoto, joked that Elder Setsuna looked younger than him.
Fugaku was still just a teenager, far from the tortured man he would become in later years; he, too, had a temper.
His crimson two-tomoe Sharingan spun slowly.
With a subtle flick of his wrists, twelve shuriken flew at Nawaki in bizarre, curving trajectories.
Nawaki was stunned; he had never seen such a technique where projectiles could curve in mid-air.
He scrambled to dodge, but his movements were sloppy and his center of gravity was unstable.
“Hmph.
Too many openings.” Seeing the messy footwork, Fugaku lunged forward, his blade stopping just inches from Nawaki’s neck.
Fanma signaled for a pause and walked over to explain.
“For anyone below Special Jonin, shuriken are vital.
They restrict movement, test strength, and probe an enemy’s state.
In the hands of a master like Fugaku, they can be lethal.
Nawaki’s performance was abysmal, though frankly, it’s normal for a Genin…
well, an above-average Genin, at least he dodged them.” Seeing Nawaki’s face redden, Fanma added a small consolation.
“Next round, Fugaku, no projectiles.
Continue.” Nawaki stared stubbornly at Fanma.
“That was just a mistake!
You don’t have to go easy on me—I’m very strong!” Fanma ignored his defiance and signaled to continue.
Fugaku looked at him with arrogant eyes and flicked his fingers.
“Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!” A massive orange fireball rushed toward him.
Nawaki didn’t panic and began his hand seals, though his speed was far from ideal.
“Water Style: Water Wall!” Thanks to Nawaki’s massive chakra reserves, the technique—though slow—managed to overwhelm the fireball.
Hiss— A massive cloud of steam engulfed the area, shrouding Nawaki.
Fugaku curled his lip and danced his fingers again.
“Earth Style: Earth Flow River!” The ground liquefied, and a wave of mud mixed with the water wall rushed toward Nawaki with terrifying momentum.
Nawaki, still trapped in the mist, could only see a blur.
He gritted his teeth and chose to defend with another jutsu.
He was frantically trying to speed up his hand seals when he saw Fugaku leap high into the air, his longsword slicing down with murderous intent.
Looking at the mudslide on the ground, Nawaki calculated: If I charge head-on and abandon defense, Fugaku will fall into the mud with me, and I have a physical advantage in a wrestling match!
Nawaki locked his gaze and leaped, charging straight at Fugaku.
Fugaku paused in mid-air.
What is he doing?
Does he have a secret move?
Fugaku didn’t lose his composure; his Sharingan spun as he gathered chakra for a genjutsu.
“Genjutsu: Demonic Illusion, Hell Viewing Technique!” Nawaki looked into those demonic red eyes, felt a chill run down his spine, and then his world turned dizzy as he tumbled from the sky.
Earn Them Together!