SHISUI UCHIHA
"You want me to do what?" Shisui stared at Daiki in disbelief.
It was the next day, and Satoshi, Daiki, and Shisui were in one of the Yamanaka clan's secluded training fields. It was a wide-open space surrounded by thick trees.
Quiet.
Isolated.
Far away from anyone who might question the sanity of what was about to happen. Daiki probably chose this spot so he could commit his child abuse in peace. Lucky him.
"Put on that blindfold," Daiki said while lounging on a sunchair, sunglasses on, sipping something that looked suspiciously refreshing. "And dodge the kunai I'm about to throw at you. Now, hurry up. We don't have all day."
Shisui blinked. Dodge kunai? Blindfolded? Was this some kind of joke?
Shisui looked at Satoshi, silently hoping for some kind of confirmation this was all a prank, but he simply shrugged. "These ones aren't sharp, so you'll only get a bruise… or two."
Oh… wonderful.
"Satoshi, just go first to show him how it's done," Daiki said, waving his hand like this was all completely normal.
Satoshi sighed, clearly wanting Shisui to (suffer) go first. But he walked to the middle of the training field and tied the blindfold around his eyes—tightly.
Shisui was a little surprised by his outfit today—form-fitting training clothes highlighting how lean and… athletic he was. But he still had those wooden geta on. Apparently, they were part of some training Daiki had him doing.
Shisui stepped back, far away from the danger zone, ensuring to stay out of Daiki's line of fire.
Daiki got up from his sunchair, lazily stretching. He summoned two shadow clones, who surrounded Satoshi, each holding a set of 'fake' kunai.
"Ready?" they asked in unison.
Satoshi gave a simple nod, standing completely still, his body relaxed like he was taking a nap standing up—not about to dodge a hail of kunai. His breathing steady, posture loose—exactly like he had been before their spar.
Without warning, all three Daiki's launched kunai at him. Fast. Three kunai shot towards his legs, chest, and head—straight, sharp.
For a second, Satoshi didn't move, didn't flinch.
Then, at the very last possible moment, his body twisted. Fluid, almost weightless, like he was moving with the wind.
Like he was the wind.
Satoshi's left arm lifted, and his torso bent at an impossible angle as he spun. The kunai sailed harmlessly past his body, missing him by centimeters. Effortless.
Another volley of kunai flew at him, faster this time. Unpredictable. No pattern.
Satoshi's back arched forward as he dropped low, one hand grazing the ground as he dodged a kunai aimed at his neck. His legs rotated, carrying him into a low sweep that took him completely out of range. Satoshi then shifted into a side roll, just in time for two kunai to whiz past him.
Daiki picked up the pace.
The clones began throwing kunai in rapid succession, keeping Satoshi on his toes—kunai aimed at his knees, his shoulders, his stomach.
Satoshi kicked off the ground, launching into the air, higher than Shisui expected.
He flipped backward, his back arching almost unnaturally as he dodged a kunai aimed straight at his spine. As he rotated, he tucked his knees, bringing them close to his chest, then unfurled his body like a whip, narrowly avoiding two kunai coming from opposite sides.
Shisui's breath was caught in his throat.
Just as Satoshi's feet were about to touch the earth beneath, three kunai came at him from behind, one heading for the back of his head, the other two for his chest. Satoshi dropped into a deep split, his torso tilting forward until his nose grazed the soft blades of grass. The kunai passed harmlessly over his head.
By this point, Shisui's jaw was on the floor.
Even though Satoshi was blindfolded, it was like he could see the kunai. Like he had the Byakugan.
It reminded Shisui of his shurikenjutsu training, where he closed his eyes and could hit the bullseye every time. But there was a key difference—his targets were stationary. Satoshi was reacting to a constantly changing scenario.
"Alright, stop, Satoshi," Daiki said. "You're getting better, but you're still moving too much. Most of those kunai could've been dodged with half the effort. Stop trying to show off, boy."
Satoshi stood up and dusted his hands, not one bit out of breath. He pulled off the blindfold, blinking as his eyes readjusted to the light. "Understood, Daiki."
He walked toward me and held out the blindfold.
"Your turn."
I stared at him, then at the blindfold, then back at him.
###
SATOSHI YAMANAKA
Shisui stared at me, then at the blindfold, then back at me.
He paused like he was debating something and then, with the most serious expression a five-year-old could make, grabbed his stomach and scrunched up his face.
"I—uh, my stomach… It's really hurting. I need to go home and use the restroom. I think it was that rice I ate earlier."
For a second, I blinked at him.
Then, after a beat, I busted out laughing—loud, real laughter from deep within my stomach. I let it all out.
It was the first time I had really laughed like that since being reborn. Since getting my diagnosis in my past life.
For so long, I'd been reserved, closed off, careful not to show too much of myself—didn't want to be caught—found out I was an… imposter.
But meeting Shisui—the elders, having the consistent love and support of my parents, of Taro—something inside me shifted. It broke the dam I didn't even realize I'd been holding back.
Shisui's scrunched-up face slowly contorted into a frown. His eyes narrowed, but before he could run off to his "bathroom" (not to mention, we had perfectly functional bathrooms here), I reassured him.
"I've been practicing this for months, Shisui. Trust me," I said, chuckling a bit. "Daiki won't go hard on you right away. He'll take it easy until you get the hang of it."
Shisui gave me a look. One that said: yeah, sure he will.
I held out the blindfold. "Promise."
He stared at it like it was a death sentence, then reluctantly snatched it from my hand.
Shisui walked to the middle of the field and put the blindfold on—loosely.
"Tighter, boy."
I smiled as Shisui muttered something under his breath, unenthusiastically tightening the knot.
I wasn't lying when I told him not to worry.
Daiki might look like an ancient demon, all scars and muscles. But underneath the exterior, he had a soft heart. He wasn't about to go overboard.
Daiki would start slow, just like he did for me.
"Ready?"
Shisui nodded—slowly.
And then the first kunai was thrown, soft, slow, towards his chest. If he were hit, it would sting, but that's it.
I expected the kunai to hit its mark. For Shisui not to dodge in time.
But I guess I forgot he was a genius.
Shisui side-stepped at the last moment; the kunai dragged against his shirt but ultimately missed.
Daiki raised an eyebrow and glanced at me. Sure, he hadn't thrown it hard, but for someone to dodge on their first try? That wasn't normal.
Spatial awareness was broken into a few key categories: training your ear to catch even the smallest sounds, sharpening your instincts to sense movement—danger—in your vicinity, attuning your body to react on reflex.
It took me a while to get used to it since dodging pointy objects of death was never a concern back on Earth.
Daiki's teaching and my wind nature affinity helped, too. He trained my body to perform flexible—near impossible movements. To move unorthodoxly to catch my opponent off guard. Rhythm was key in battle, and everyone had a natural tempo. A natural cadence.
I've learned my Mind Palace, the information I store, has more applications than I initially assumed.
After watching Daiki perform kata's—after sparing with him—I was slowly but surely able to pick up and memorize the nuances of his movements, of his cadence, of his rhythm, and implement it into my taijutsu.
That meant I could do that for any fighting style. Any technique.
Incorporate it into my own—develop something new. Something that fit me.
Something perfect.
Then, there was my wind affinity.
Wind was everywhere, and because of my affinity, through training, I could pick up on the slight shifts in the wind, the air around me. It wasn't something that came naturally—it was honed and grew slowly over time.
But now, I could determine, could feel, abnormalities—movements around me.
Shisui's ability to dodge the kunai was a testament to his genius, to his potential to be one of the strongest Uchiha to ever live.
Daiki threw another one, same speed, same intensity. This time at his left leg.
It's easier to dodge something coming at your upper body; your legs, though?
That's tougher.
I figured this one would connect. But no—Shisui shuffled his feet, darting away just in time. It was a quick movement—very quick.
No wonder he was known as Shisui of the Body Flicker. If he was this fast now, I could only imagine what he'd be like when he got older.
I don't know what training he did in the anime, but my training is grueling. The elders have high standards for me, and my standards are even higher.
If I keep training with Shisui, I'm sure he will be an even bigger powerhouse than he was in the anime. Someone I could rely on.
Someone who would survive.
Still only throwing one kunai at a time, Daiki shot one at his shoulder—faster.
But as soon as it got within reach, Shisui shifted and dodged it.
My eyebrow raised.
This boy.
This—this is what real genius looks like. It wasn't a fluke—he was improving with every throw, adjusting, learning on the fly.
Brilliant… he is brilliant.
Then, two kunai came, one in front, one from the side. Different speeds.
I saw him hesitate, fumbling his movement, not expecting two to come. But, honestly, what surprised me wasn't that he got hit—it was the fact he could even tell there were two kunai coming.
Too bad he was a little slow.
He dodged one, but the other hit his arm before he could twist out of the way.
His lips tightened into a thin line. I've seen—had—that look before.
The elder who was with him on the first day of the Academy had eyes that practically violated me. I could only imagine the pressure they put on him—so naturally, he probably put it on himself, too.
Meanwhile, Daiki wasn't letting up. The kunai kept coming faster, harder.
And while Shisui still got hit a few times, he managed to dodge more, and more.
He stayed grounded, limiting his movements to what was absolutely necessary.
I, on the other hand, was flipping and spinning all over the place like I was performing at Cirque du Soleil.
I was practicing my in-the-air dodging, of course… And maybe showing off a tad.
Immature? Irrelevant.
The set went on for another minute. When Daiki finally called it, Shisui stood there, breathing deep—steady.
For his first time, he did great.
"Good job, little Uchiha," Daiki said. Coming from him, that was a standing ovation.
Daiki then looked at me. "Alright, Satoshi. You're up."
Shisui, blindfold off, blinked. Confused. "We're… not done?"
Daiki, now back at his sunchair, took a sip of freshly squeezed orange juice I made earlier and said, "That was only the first set. You've got forty-nine to go."
Shisui's eyes just about popped out of his head.
I had to stop myself from laughing.
Yeah, now, finally, someone else gets to experience the torture—training I've been dealing with.
It'll be a long day—a day of hard work. But hard work was good work.
And this was only the beginning.
The hard part hadn't even started yet.
===
[A/N] A glimpse into Satoshi's training (torture, or so Satoshi would call it) with Shisui. Two up-and-coming stars. I love their little blossoming friendship.
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