A Year Later.
The sun had risen long ago, but the room was cloaked in a gentle twilight, softened by the blurred outlines of objects that created an atmosphere of comfort and tranquility. Thin rays of light filtered through the paper walls, dancing on the floor in intricate patterns. The scent of aged wood and incense intertwined smoothly with the cool morning air, giving the room a faint sense of freshness.
Uchiha Misaki hung upside down, attached to the ceiling with chakra. Her long black hair cascaded in soft strands, barely obstructing her view of what was happening below. Her dark eyes, deep as polished onyx, watched her older brother as he methodically packed his gear for another mission, either unaware of or deliberately ignoring the fact that someone was on the ceiling.
An audacious idea had taken root in her mind.
One of the perks of being in a child's body was the freedom to occasionally be a bit childish, to play pranks and delight in the little things. And how wonderful it was to have someone nearby to unleash her bursts of affection on.
The moment Shisui turned away, Misaki tensed her muscles, pushed off the ceiling with force, and dove down like a hawk after its prey.
"Boo!" Misaki shouted gleefully, launching herself at her brother.
Shisui raised an eyebrow slightly and turned sharply, easily catching her mid-air and pulling her down with him to the floor. Misaki squealed with delight, struggling to break free, flailing her small fists, and even managing to pinch him a couple of times. But her brother was skilled and quick, effortlessly blocking all her attempts until he finally pinned her down, tickling her relentlessly.
Misaki burst into laughter, begging for mercy as tears of joy filled her eyes.
"All right, I give up, I give up, Shisui!" she gasped, barely able to catch her breath between fits of laughter.
Shisui smirked with mock importance.
"Suppressing your chakra to catch me off guard isn't enough," he said, pretending it was an intricate science. "You didn't account for how the air moved when you pushed off."
Shisui stood towering over her with an air of triumph—her older brother in this world. Though they were only four years apart, Shisui felt like an unassailable mountain. His combat skills and sharp mind seemed utterly out of reach to her.
Even though Misaki had been over twenty-three years old in her previous life, here she felt as though she fell short in every way compared to her brother.
Except, perhaps, in chakra control, which Shisui genuinely admired. He often remarked that for her age, it was highly unusual—even extraordinary. Walking on water and climbing trees with chakra control was something not all genin could manage, and he was quick to offer an explanation: she took after him, and naturally, there could be no other reason.
Chakra itself turned out to be utterly fascinating. To learn how to use it properly, children were sent to the ninja academy at the age of six, and Misaki was supposed to start in just a year. But she wasn't planning to wait—she couldn't resist mastering this mysterious art. After all, being reincarnated in this world had become a breath of fresh air for Misaki. Here, there were no limits to what you could achieve, always something to strive for. It was a novelty for her.
However, there was another side to the coin: becoming a shinobi wasn't just about gaining power. It meant taking responsibility for others' lives, being prepared to kill if necessary, and sacrificing oneself for others.
But Misaki wasn't discouraged. To avoid future challenges and make the most of her head start, she decided to push herself out of her comfort zone as early as possible and grow into a strong shinobi to the best of her ability. After all, what else was there to do?
"If my brother can hold his own against multiple adults at his age, why should I be any worse?"
"I wanted you to notice me," she grumbled, climbing into the freshly made futon. "And where are you going again? You promised to train me today. What the fuck?"
"What the fuck?" Shisui repeated with mock horror. "Where on earth did you hear that?"
"Don't dodge the question!"
"I promise, as soon as I'm back, we'll definitely train," Shisui said in a conciliatory tone, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"No, we're training now!" she said, pouting like a child and blocking the exit with her small frame.
"You leave me no choice…" Shisui sighed theatrically, and in the next instant, Misaki had to dodge his swift attack.
Laughing, she counterattacked, deftly parrying each strike. The spar felt like a game, but for a brief moment, Misaki caught onto something different—her brother was allowing her to hold her own longer than usual. The thought unsettled her slightly.
The realization hit her in the next instant, and with all the fury of a child, Misaki activated her Sharingan—one tomoe in each eye. The illusion cleared instantly, and Shisui vanished with a playful smile, leaving behind only a faint breeze.
She immediately darted into the corridor, racing after him. Her bare feet glided silently across the wooden floor until her path was blocked by a towering figure. Misaki came to an abrupt stop, nearly crashing into her father.
"Already messing around this early in the morning?" the man muttered wearily in a raspy voice, leaning on a crutch with one hand.
"I was just…"
"Turn off your Sharingan before you collapse from exhaustion."
Misaki was about to argue but quickly shut her eyes and complied.
Her father in this world, Hirari Uchiha, was a relic of war. A disabled veteran who had lost a leg. He had suffered severe concussions, leading to frequent memory lapses. His face was marred with scars, and his eyes—once full of life—now seemed empty and indifferent. To top it off, the loss of his wife had broken him, turning him into a hollow shell of a man.
Misaki remembered the day, a year ago, when the news of her mother's death during a military mission had arrived. The pain and bitterness that overwhelmed her had awakened her Sharingan—a hallmark of the Uchiha clan. For an ordinary four-year-old, such a feat would have been impossible, but Misaki was an exception. However, Shisui had strictly forbidden her from training with the Sharingan without supervision. What a bore.
As for helping her with other training, well, he claimed he didn't have the time. Though it sounded like an excuse, Misaki couldn't blame him. Shisui was currently the family's sole provider, and he made time for her whenever he could.
But the one with all the free time just shuffled around the house, grumbling and scowling.
However, Misaki didn't stop trying to engage her father.
"Maybe you could help me with shuriken practice?" she asked, her voice tinged with hope.
"Go outside. Make some friends your age," he said dismissively as he walked away, disappearing into his room and leaving Misaki standing in the hallway, fuming with frustration.
"Easy for you to say—'go outside,'" Misaki thought, scowling. "When was the last time you stepped out yourself?"
Socializing with her peers felt foreign to her. Sure, there were times when Misaki enjoyed being a child—minimal responsibilities, no one expecting much from her, and the world appearing bright and carefree. But heading to the playground to play with kids her age? Absolutely not. She had outgrown that about eighteen years ago.
Even with Shisui, the person she felt most comfortable around, she couldn't fully open up. While there wasn't the same barrier she felt with other children—Misaki often sensed a kind of intellectual equality with him—she still couldn't step out of the role of a clever child who picked things up quickly.
And she needed to do something about that quickly. At this rate, Misaki risked turning into a reclusive, brother-obsessed shut-in. Though in her past life, she had never been asocial… Or was she just overthinking it?
In the end, her father was right about one thing: to train with shuriken, she'd need a practice range. And for that, she'd have to go outside.
After finishing breakfast and waiting for Konoha to fully wake up, Misaki stepped out of the house, taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air. She walked along a narrow street, passing houses with tiled roofs, where the silhouettes of genin darted about.
Fragments of conversations from passersby, children's laughter, the barking of dogs, and the jingling of bells on horses pulling carts full of goods reached her ears. All these sounds wove together into a single melody of life, one that Misaki felt herself to be a part of, even as she remained a detached observer.
Walking briskly, Misaki deftly maneuvered through the crowd. The training ground was deep in the forest, beyond an old shrine, and to get there, she had to take a narrow path winding between dense trees.
Emerging from the forest, Misaki stopped at the edge of the training ground, enveloped in a resonant silence. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. The dense foliage overhead cast shadows on the ground, creating a sense of seclusion and calm. She liked this place. Few people ever came here, so she expected to find the familiar empty expanse once more.
To her surprise, this time she wasn't alone.
And Misaki wasn't particularly happy about it. Her first thought was to assert that this was "her" spot and chase the intruder away. From the looks of it, he was a boy about her age, so scaring him off with a simple Sharingan illusion wouldn't be too difficult.
However, as Misaki took a step toward him, she suddenly froze in place. The boy leapt into the air like a bird. Twisting mid-flight, he flipped upside down and, with incredible speed and precision, hurled kunai in all directions—four from each hand.
Mesmerized, Misaki watched as the steel blades whistled through the air, striking their targets with flawless accuracy. It was impressive.
The boy landed softly on the ground, his back to her. On his back, the familiar red-and-white fan symbol stood out clearly.
"Oh wow, so you're from my clan!" she blurted out without thinking. "That was amazing. I'm not even sure I could pull that off."
He turned to face her, meeting her gaze with serious, dark eyes. There was a calm calculation and a hint of wariness in his look. But after a moment, as if it didn't matter, he turned away indifferently and began pulling the kunai from the targets.
For a moment, Misaki stood rooted to the spot, stunned. She felt her cheeks flush with indignation. For the first time in this life, she had decided to speak to someone—perhaps even get to know them—and he hadn't even bothered to listen! She hadn't expected some random kid to dare treat her like this.
Her old plan suddenly took on new colors. She wanted to teach him a lesson, to assert her superiority, to make him retreat in tears. But somehow, things didn't unfold as she had imagined in her head.
"Didn't anyone teach you manners?" Misaki snapped angrily. "What are you even doing here? This is my spot! Get lost!"
"I'm training," he replied calmly, continuing to leisurely gather his kunai without any rush. "Many shinobi have joint training sessions today, so there was nowhere else to go. I came here."
"And what am I supposed to do? Come back later?"
The boy paused for a moment, studying her face intently, as if weighing whether the conversation was worth continuing. Then, in the same even tone, he replied:
"There's enough room here for two."
It took considerable effort for Misaki to suppress her indignation and avoid saying something unpleasant to him, but she managed to cool her temper. Mumbling something under her breath, she walked to the far edge of the training ground.
There, she settled under an old, sprawling oak tree whose canopy cast a cool shade. Tucking her legs beneath her, she sat and frowned without even realizing it.
Around her, the occasional rustle of leaves and the chirping of birds filled the air.
An offended silence.
How foolish. Despite having the mind of an adult, her child's body sometimes took over, imposing its own rules—like it did just now. She'd thrown a tantrum like a child, though… why "like"?
What infuriated her most was that the boy turned out to be far more competent and level-headed than she was. He didn't lose his composure and even proposed a logical and optimal solution. Just like an adult.
Misaki glanced at him covertly, watching as he prepared to pull off another trick. She wondered if she should go and apologize.
"Big shot," Misaki mentally huffed, pulling shuriken from her pouch. "If anyone should be apologizing, it's him."
Finding that perfect point of calm and thoughtlessness, she disconnected from the situation entirely, determined to make good use of her time.
Misaki wasn't fond of flashy tricks like some people were. They were impressive but, in her view, impractical. Most of her time was spent refining her accuracy, aiming to hit targets from different angles or strike multiple targets at once. However, her small hands could only hold so many shuriken and kunai at a time, and she couldn't practice for long—her hands quickly grew sore, and repeating the same exercises became tedious. And there was no one to teach her anything new.
An hour or so passed this way. Misaki had no intention of leaving—the weather was perfect for more training. For a rainy October, it was unusually sunny. Stowing her gear back in her pouch, she began circulating chakra throughout her body, deciding to practice something more advanced.
She had inherited her brother's crow summoning technique. Not the smartest creatures, but they could be remarkably easy to control if you knew how. With a bit of creativity, crows could be used for more than just distractions. According to Shisui, it was the most underestimated summoning technique of all.
Misaki started to believe that too after Shisui taught her to substitute her body not with a log, but with crows. Yet even that wasn't enough for her—she was convinced there was much more potential to squeeze out of those poor birds. What she had in mind didn't even require summoning; all she needed was the transformation jutsu and impeccable chakra control, which, fortunately, Misaki was blessed with.
She formed the necessary seals and closed her eyes, focusing intently on the images of crows—their number, shape, and every minute detail. In an instant, Misaki's body began to dissolve. Black fragments, swirling around her, transformed one by one into crows, merging into a single flock. It took tremendous effort to maintain this form, ensuring everything looked natural and convincing.
In reality, Misaki transformed into just one crow, while the others were mere illusions. She had come up with the idea while perfecting the basic Henge no Jutsu, striving to make the shadows fall correctly under the sun and the fabric of her clothing move naturally in the wind. The technique had proved so absurdly versatile that at one point, Misaki had turned herself into a giant dango stick just for fun.
Once she realized that this seemingly simple technique had no limits, the idea struck her. Although she hadn't yet figured out how to incorporate real crows instead of mere projections, the technique already held immense potential. It could easily disorient an enemy, and when combined with the substitution jutsu that replaced her body with crows, it became a fearsome weapon.
Well, it all looked good on paper. In reality, though, she still lacked the finesse.
After a few seconds, Misaki couldn't maintain control any longer, and the Henge dissolved with a soft pop, leaving her to fall to the ground. Sustaining the Henge in such a small object while simultaneously coordinating the other birds was no easy task. Moving in that form was still beyond her abilities—for now.
Satisfied even with this result, Misaki smirked triumphantly, but the moment she opened her eyes, the smile instantly faded.
"What do you want?"
Standing before her was the same clanmate she hadn't noticed or heard for the past hour. His expressionless face showed clear curiosity.
"That wasn't an ordinary crow summoning," he said, more of a statement than a question. "So what was it?"
It seemed like ordinary curiosity, but the barely perceptible demanding tone nearly set Misaki off for the second time that day. However, she didn't want to spoil her relationship with the clan. She quickly composed herself, though it wasn't easy. Peace was more important.
"It was Henge no Jutsu," Misaki muttered gloomily.
The boy narrowed his eyes, silently demanding more explanation. Misaki clicked her tongue and continued:
"Just basic Henge! But you're right about it being tied to the summoning. You need a connection with the crows, accounting for every detail: how many flaps each bird makes, how loudly it caws, and lots of other little things."
She felt like her explanation flew right over his head. Misaki didn't expect much anyway. Hopefully, he'd just leave now.
The boy seemed to ponder her words for a moment, as if weighing the pros and cons, and then said:
"I can make crow clones."
Misaki was taken aback by his admission. His words didn't come across as smug or boastful but rather a little shy. It felt like he was simply sharing something he could discuss with someone who shared his interests. Just an hour ago, she'd thought approaching him would be more trouble than it was worth, yet here they were.
She was equally surprised by what he had actually said. Misaki knew that the crow summoning technique was popular among some Uchiha, often used in combination with illusion techniques. But for someone like him… Her peers were usually playing tag with each other, not inventing new jutsu.
Then she remembered the clan she belonged to and how some Uchiha parents pushed their children the moment they could walk. She, of course, hadn't been pushed—probably the privilege of being born a girl, or maybe Shisui had something to do with it, though he was oddly secretive on the matter. But this boy—he seemed like the perfect example of harsh upbringing.
"Show me," Misaki demanded more than asked.
The boy formed a seal, and Misaki held her breath. She felt the sudden emergence of multiple chakra sources—they were crows. A dozen birds gathered around him, their black wings merging to form arms, legs, and finally a head.
Beside him stood a clone. The same black hair, the same dark eyes.
The clone was flawless. Misaki's mind instantly raced with ideas for its potential uses. She could already picture how, upon the clone's destruction, the crows would scatter in all directions, confusing the enemy. And if they were equipped with explosive tags…
"I want it!" she blurted out before quickly schooling her expression into one of calm composure. "I propose a trade. I'll teach you my technique, and you show me yours."
"Deal," he replied without hesitation, as if he'd been waiting for exactly this.
They shook hands, sealing the agreement. A genuine smile spread across Misaki's face. It was a feeling she had never experienced before.
"Uchiha Misaki."
"Uchiha Itachi."
Beside them, the clone burst apart with a pop, sending crows flying in all directions.