Chapter Text
The morning air in the academy training field was sharp and cool, carrying the faint scent of damp earth after the rain the morning before. Wakaba-sensei stood in front of us, arms crossed, his bald head gleaming in the sunlight.
“Today’s exercise is simple,” he declared, voice cutting through the chatter of the class. “Capture the flag. Two teams. The first team to bring the opposing flag back to their base wins. Understand?”
A chorus of “Yes, sensei!” followed.
Names were called out in pairs, and my stomach dropped a little when I heard, “Kimura Meiko and Umino Iruka versus Uchiha Shisui and Mizuki.”
I shot a quick glance at Iruka. He grimaced, already reading the situation the same way I was.
Shisui by himself would have been trouble enough. But with Mizuki as his partner… I actually relaxed a little. Mizuki was smug, loud, and even if he was probably fourth best in class, after Shisui, Iruka and I, he was not nearly as skilled as he thought he was. If anything, he might end up being more of a hindrance to Shisui than an asset.
We all lined up at the edge of the small forest where the exercise would take place. Two flags were set, one blue, one red, each tied to poles driven into the dirt at opposite ends.
Wakaba’s arm went up as we took positions. “Begin!”
We darted into the trees, Iruka and I keeping low as the other team disappeared in the opposite direction.
“They’ll come straight for us,” Iruka muttered, already tugging an explosive tag out of his pouch and attaching it to a kunai. “Shisui’s not the type to wait.”
“Which is why Mizuki will slow him down,” I whispered back. “If we’re careful, this might not be so bad. Just avoid fighting Shisui head-on.”
Still, my pulse thrummed. This was the perfect chance to test the Transparent Escape Technique. Rin had warned me it wasn’t just about the jutsu. It was about intent, posture, the way I carried myself. I wanted to prove I could do it when it mattered.
Iruka and I set ourselves near a tree just shy of the flag. I took a slow, steadying breath, then weaved the seals. My chakra wrapped around me like a thin veil, bending light…
…And then flickered. The distortion wavered, breaking apart in the wind. I stumbled, visible as day with chakra smoke around me.
Mizuki’s triumphant shout cut through the trees. “There they are!”
A kunai whistled through the air, forcing me to drop to the dirt. Shisui wasn’t with him. Of course he wasn’t. Mizuki had moved alone, even if Shisui likely wanted to work together.
Iruka hurled his own kunai in return, forcing Mizuki to take cover behind a tree. “You’re too loud!” Iruka barked at him, acting like a teacher already, even for his opponent. “You’ll give yourself away every time!”
I was surprised for a moment he didn't scold me too, but he understood that I knew exactly what I did wrong already.
I gritted my teeth, heat rising to my cheeks. My first real attempt at the Transparent Escape had crumbled under pressure, and now Iruka was the one covering for me.
We traded ground with Mizuki for a while, neither side gaining much. But then, from the corner of my eye, I saw it. Shisui, moving like a shadow, cutting Iruka off. Sharingan active as he Body Flickers against him.
“Iruka!” I shouted, but it was too late. Shisui’s speed pushed Iruka back toward the flag, cornering him.
This was it. If I didn’t try again now, we’d lose.
I ducked low behind the brush, heart hammering. Hands wove the seals. This time I didn’t force it. I let my chakra slide around me, like mist clinging to glass. The shimmer steadied. The world rippled faintly, and I was gone.
Or close enough, at least.
I crept, step by careful step, toward the enemy’s flag. Every crackle of leaves under my sandals felt deafening, but neither Shisui nor Mizuki turned. Iruka kept their attention with desperate strikes, buying me just enough time.
My fingers brushed fabric. I seized the flag and tore it free, breaking into a sprint back toward our base.
By the time Mizuki spun around, it was already too late.
“Blue team wins!” Wakaba-sensei’s voice carried through the trees as I planted the flag into the dirt.
Iruka stumbled back toward me, panting but grinning. Shisui, behind him, raised an eyebrow before letting the smirk spread across his face.
“You actually pulled it off,” Iruka said, thumping me lightly on the shoulder.
I was still breathless, too much so to speak, still buzzing from the attempt. The shimmer had held. Not perfectly, but long enough to matter.
And for now, that was enough.
The walk back through the compound was quieter than usual, going home that afternoon. The air smelled faintly of rain, heavy clouds pressing low over the tiled rooftops. By the time I reached the house, Shisui was already sitting on the front step, having rushed ahead with a Body Flicker, tugging absently at the strap of his sandal.
I had learnt the basics of the technique in my own time, but I hadn't felt like wasting chakra to get home. I had lots to think about, anyway.
“Uncle Fugaku and Aunt Mikoto are busy,” he said as I approached. “Clan stuff. They dropped Itachi off here.”
I followed his glance toward the side garden. The little boy was crouched near the shrubs again, utterly focused, like the rest of the world didn’t exist.
“What’s he doing this time?” I asked, slipping off my sandals.
“Counting ants, I think.” Shisui’s grin was fond, almost indulgent.
I chuckled, then stepped into the garden. Sure enough, Itachi was following a trail of ants with his finger, his lips moving as if silently naming them. Or maybe having a conversation.
He looked up when I came near.
“You’re back.”
“I am,” I said softly. “Shisui said you’re studying ants?”
“They’re organized,” Itachi said simply, pointing at the tiny column weaving through the grass. “One carries food. The others protect it. They don’t waste energy.”
I glanced at Shisui, who shrugged like this is normal. For Itachi, maybe it was. In fact, I was quite certain it was now.
“Want to see something else organized?” I asked, lowering myself to sit beside him. I pulled a leaf from the nearby bush and balanced it on the flat of my palm. “This is how shinobi train chakra control.”
His black eyes flicked to me, sharp with interest. He likely had already been receiving some very basic training, but not this.
I showed him the simple seals, then placed the leaf against my forehead. It clung there, trembling only slightly. “The trick is even pressure. Too much, and it bursts away. Too little, and it falls.”
Itachi’s small hand lifted a leaf of his own. He pressed it against his brow with furrowed concentration. It slipped off immediately. He caught it, and then tried again.
By the third attempt, it stuck. Perfectly still.
I blinked, then laughed softly. “That’s… fast.”
Shisui leaned over from the steps, whistling low.
Itachi didn’t smile, just kept the leaf balanced like it was the most natural thing in the world. “This is useful,” he said quietly.
I didn’t know what to say to that. At his age, a normal kid like Iruka was probably still stumbling over basic stances, if they had even started training at all.
It made me think, had I not been reincarnated with my memories, as much as I want to forget sometimes, would I be anywhere near the modest level of skill I had achieved so far? I imagine not. The real Kimura Meiko would probably have been utterly average, or worse.
Shisui clapped his hands once, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Alright, prodigy. Let’s eat before you start walking up trees next.”
I chose not to comment about how Shisui had probably gotten these same exercises down in just as little time as Itachi.
We gathered around the low table inside. The house creaked in the evening wind, bowls of rice and miso set between us. Itachi sat small and silent, but when Shisui teased him into eating faster, he rolled his eyes in a way that was unmistakably childlike.
I caught myself smiling, warmth curling low in my chest.
Here, in this quiet corner of the Uchiha compound, it almost felt like family. Not the kind tied by blood, but something made of choice. Fragile, maybe. But real.
It only made it hurt more, though, when I thought about what would come of these two, should I fail to stop it.
God, I hoped I could stop it.