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For Kaito, school was the dullest part of the day. He already knew everything the Academy had to offer, and none of it challenged him. Chemistry, math, history, physics—he breezed through them all. Politics, strategy, and war tactics were a little trickier, but even those weren't much of a struggle.
Leaning on his elbow, he rested his chin in his palm, eyes half-lidded as he stared at the board. Boring as it was, the Academy wasn't completely useless. The last period of the day always had some value—Seji would gather the class at the training grounds for physical tests.
Sparring, running, pushups—the usual drills. The academic side of the Academy was a joke, but when it came to physical tests, Kaito actually had to put in effort. He'd gotten stronger over the past few months, improving fast, but compared to actual clan kids, he still had a ways to go. They outperformed him in almost every physical category.
That didn't mean he was at the bottom, though. He ranked somewhere in the middle—just below the clan kids but still ahead of most of the clanless ones.
School was boring, but at least by the end of the day, he got to practice his Taijutsu. Over the weekend, he'd been grinding, running through drills as much as possible. He wasn't following a structured plan or anything—just practicing whatever moves and techniques he could remember.
Kaito's eyes flicked to Izumi, who sat beside him, watching Seji intently as she listened to the lesson. She was the best in their class—an Uchiha, or at least half of one. But even that was enough to make her a prodigy. It helped that she knew Itachi, too. She practically worshipped him, and knowing Itachi, he probably taught her a thing or two.
That was what made it all the more ironic. In a few years, she'd be dead—wiped out along with the rest of her clan. It wasn't like he could stop the massacre. No, that wasn't right. He could, he just didn't want to.
The Uchiha Massacre was an opportunity. While everyone else was focused on the tragedy of it, he saw something else—an opening. If he played his cards right, he could collect a few sets of Sharingan before Obito got to them. He didn't care about most of the Uchiha, but Fugaku's eyes? Shisui's? Those were worth something.
Other than that, he didn't care if Obito took the rest. Let him have them.
The real question was—how was he even going to get to the massacre in time? He didn't know the exact date, just a rough estimate. That wasn't much to go on.
And even if he did get there, how was he supposed to take the eyes? If he showed up while it was happening, he'd have to go up against Itachi and Obito. One was bad enough. Both? That was suicide.
' Maybe joining the Anbu is the best move… ' Kaito leaned into the thought. If he could get into Itachi's unit, he might be placed on the same mission when the time came. That would put him close enough to act. But getting into the Anbu wasn't that simple. He needed to catch the attention of either Danzo or Hiruzen—preferably Danzo. Hiruzen played things too safe. Danzo, though? If Kaito proved himself useful, he'd have an in.
If he wanted into the Anbu, he had to impress Danzo, more than anyone else. That old war hawk practically ran the place from the shadows.
The problem? Danzo was an actual scumbag. The kind of guy who leaked information about Naruto being the Nine-Tails jinchuriki, just to turn the village against him. Kaito wasn't stupid—he knew Danzo would throw him under the bus the second it benefited him.
Honestly, working under Hiruzen would be better. At least the Hokage wasn't a backstabbing psychopath. But if Kaito wanted to get noticed fast, Danzo was the better bet.
Still, none of that mattered yet. First, he had to do something crazy enough to catch the attention of the village elders. And that wasn't happening until he officially became a genin and got way stronger. Right now? No one important even knew his name.
"Alright, class. We're wrapping up soon, so let's finish with the physical portion of the day," Seji announced, already making his way to the door. "Head to the training ground."
Chairs scraped against the floor as students stood, shuffling out into the hallway and toward the open field.
They started off light—four laps around the grounds to get the blood flowing. After that, stretches to prevent muscle cramps or injuries. Routine, but necessary.
Next was a Shurikenjutsu test. Kaito did well, but he was still behind the clan kids—no surprise there. They had the advantage of better chakra reserves, stronger bodies, and actual training from chunin and jonin since childhood.
It was always the same. The clanless kids struggled while the clan heirs breezed through, having been conditioned for this life from the start.
Once the physical drills wrapped up, it was time for sparring. Seji called up the first pair, and the fight played out as expected—just fists, no jutsu, nothing special.
Kaito used the time to observe. He analyzed their movements, picked apart weaknesses, and took mental notes on ways to improve himself. But there was only so much he could learn from Academy students. They were too weak to offer anything substantial.
But their skills were better than his, it was still something he could learn from.
"Tsuchi," Seji called out, standing in the middle of the wide circle formed by students sitting along the perimeter. Across from Kaito, a boy stood up—brown hair, pale white irises, a little taller than him. A Hyūga.
Seji's gaze swept the crowd before landing on Kaito. "Kaito."
Kaito exhaled through his nose, pushing himself to his feet. Just his luck. If there was anyone he didn't want to fight, it was Tsuchi Hyūga. Izumi was stronger, sure, but she never dragged things out. She'd end the fight fast. Tsuchi, on the other hand? He'd make it as painful as possible.
Tsuchi, on the other hand, was a different breed. Second to Izumi in strength, but he took his time, breaking his opponents down with methodical brutality. He wasn't in a hurry to win—he enjoyed watching the pain he caused. Kaito had never fought him before, but he'd seen enough. The kids who went up against Tsuchi didn't just lose; they were sent to the hospital. And all because Tsuchi could.
Kaito ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back into place. He wasn't sure how much of his Mystical Palm Jutsu would help him if Tsuchi managed to break his arm, but he wasn't about to back down. Tsuchi might've been a monster, but Kaito wasn't someone to shy away from a fight. The harder the opponent, the stronger he would get.
Kaito stepped into the ring, his gaze locking onto Tsuchi. The other boy stood still, eyes cold and unreadable. No anger, no excitement—just quiet intensity.
'Great. One of those types,' Kaito thought, rolling his shoulders loose.
Seji glanced between them, arms crossed. "Alright, you guys ready?"
Both Kaito and Tsuchi nodded, stepping forward to perform the Seal of Confrontation. The air between them grew heavier, tension growing in the space between them.
Kaito settled into his stance, feet light, and hands up. Tsuchi mirrored him, getting into his own stance steady and composed. Neither rushed. They were waiting...waiting for Seji's signal.
"START!"
With Seji's signal, both fighters exploded forward. Kaito led with a sharp jab, testing Tsuchi's defense, but the Hyūga barely moved, his pale eyes locked onto him with an unnerving intensity.
Then, in an instant, Tsuchi struck. A palm shot forward, slamming into Kaito's forearm, redirecting his punch mid-air. Kaito barely had time to react before a second palm strike drilled into his ribs, knocking the wind from his lungs. He stumbled, his breath hitching, but forced himself to stay upright.
'Shit... he's fast.'
Kaito charged forward with a quick one-two combo—left jab, right cross—but Tsuchi weaved just out of range. Kaito barely had time to reset before the Hyūga closed in again, his knee ramming into Kaito's thigh. Pain flared through his leg, but before he could shift his weight, Tsuchi's elbow smashed into his cheek.
Kaito's vision blurred for a split second. He staggered back, gritting his teeth.
But he wasn't about to just roll over.
He pushed forward again, feinting high before ducking low, swinging a hook toward Tsuchi's ribs. The Hyūga barely flinched. His open palm caught Kaito's wrist mid-swing, twisting sharply. Kaito gasped as pain shot up his arm, but before he could counter, Tsuchi yanked him forward and drove his knee straight into Kaito's stomach.
His body folded. Air ripped from his lungs.
Tsuchi didn't let go. He shifted his grip, spun behind Kaito, and wrenched his arm back in a hold. Pain burned through his shoulder as Tsuchi's grip tightened, his foot sweeping Kaito's leg out from under him. Before he knew it, he was flat on his stomach, arm pinned awkwardly behind his back.
He grunted, trying to twist free, but Tsuchi pressed a palm between his shoulder blades, keeping him locked down.
"You're too slow," Tsuchi muttered, voice calm.
Kaito clenched his jaw. His muscles screamed, his breath ragged, but he refused to tap out. He was just getting started.
"Yeah?" he huffed, shifting his legs beneath him. "Then let's speed things up."
He planted his foot and twisted it, slipping from Tsuchi's hold just enough to roll free. As he shot up to his feet, he barely caught a glimpse of Tsuchi's smirk before another palm strike crashed into his chest.
Kaito barely had time to register the hit before the second came, this time to his gut. His body lurched back—then another, a sharp strike to his shoulder.
Then another.
And another.
It wasn't just speed. It was surgical. Every hit landed with pinpoint accuracy, each one disrupting his balance, his control.
His legs buckled. His vision swam.
Then, for the first time in the fight, Tsuchi pulled back slightly, his stance still unreadable. "Had enough?"
Kaito, gasping, wiped the blood from his busted lip. His whole body ached. Every muscle felt like it was screaming at him to stay down.
He exhaled slowly.
"Nah," he muttered, spitting blood to the side.
Then he raised his fists again.
Tsuchi's eyes narrowed, his stance as perfect as ever. He shifted slightly, weight balanced, feet planted just right—like he wasn't even trying. Kaito, on the other hand, felt every inch of the damage. His ribs burned. His arm throbbed where Tsuchi had twisted it. His legs? Damn near useless after that knee strike.
But he wasn't done.
Kaito lunged forward, throwing a tight right hook. Tsuchi barely moved, tilting his head just enough for it to whiff past his cheek. In that split second, Kaito fired off a left straight, aiming to catch him before he could counter—
A palm strike hammered into his forearm mid-swing. Then another. Then another. Each hit landed with pinpoint accuracy, disrupting his momentum before he could even get close.
Kaito gritted his teeth, pushing through. He threw a wild elbow, aiming for Tsuchi's chin. It was a desperate move, but if it landed, it would—
Tsuchi dipped under it, fast. His palm shot up—hard—slamming into Kaito's exposed ribs again.
A sharp, breathless grunt ripped from Kaito's throat. " Gwah! " He doubled over, just in time for Tsuchi's knee to crash into his stomach.
His feet left the ground for a second.
Then the last thing he saw was Tsuchi's leg snapping up toward his jaw. He tried to react, by bringing up his arm to block the kick. But...
Bam.
Everything went dark.
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