Chapter 6: Ninja Academy
What puzzled Nan was why Uchiha Madara hadn't sent anyone to keep an eye on Uchiha Han. How could he be so sure that, after awakening the Mangekyō Sharingan, Han would cooperate with his plans?
After all, Han simply sought power—he wasn't interested in lofty ideals like world peace or creating some bizarre new world.
What Nan didn't know was that Madara had only told Han a bit about the Mangekyō Sharingan because he thought there was a small chance Han could become his successor.
Awakening the Mangekyō depended on innate talent, and Madara hadn't placed much hope in him. The curse mark he left on Han was just a backup measure in case he succeeded—something to keep him under control.
Now that the curse mark had vanished, Madara merely assumed that useless fool had died somewhere.
Nan had no way of knowing all this. No matter how much he thought it over, he couldn't make sense of it and eventually gave up.
He had more immediate concerns—like how to explain why he skipped half a day of classes. "Good thing Han snuck back into Konoha in secret to try and kill me," he thought with relief. "No one knows he returned."
Had Han been spotted, and then Nan vanished the same day only for Han to end up missing, the situation would've been impossible to explain.
But now, with no one aware that the two had met, even if Han's disappearance was discovered in the future, it wouldn't be linked to him. People go missing in wartime all the time; neither the village nor the Uchiha clan would look too deeply into it.
By the time Nan returned home, he was so exhausted he forgot the bloodstains on him. They had even soaked into his bedding.
He quickly took a bath, scrubbing away the blood. Luckily, there were still clean clothes and bedding at home. He changed everything and threw the soiled items away.
By the time he finished, it was already very late.
---
The next day, Nan arrived at the academy at his usual time, according to the memories he had inherited. No sooner had he found his seat than he heard a voice call out:
"Uchiha Nan, come to my office for a moment."
It was his homeroom teacher, Itō Ei.
He's probably going to ask why I skipped class yesterday, Nan thought as he stood up and followed him.
Sure enough, as soon as they reached the office, Itō got straight to the point.
"Nan, where were you yesterday afternoon? I didn't see you in class."
I was tricked into the Forest of Death by my brother, who tried to kill me to awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan. And you know what? He succeeded. I'm actually dead. The person standing in front of you is no longer me. Also, I now possess the EMS.
Sounds insane, right? Even I think it's nonsense—but it's the truth. And I can't even tell you.
Suppressing the sarcastic monologue in his head, Nan replied with a ready excuse:
"Teacher Itō, you know I've helped out at the hospital before, right? As a medical-nin in training?"
Itō's eyes lit up with recognition. As a responsible teacher, he knew a fair amount about his students—especially someone like Nan, whose case was special. The boy had managed to grasp basic medical ninjutsu at the age of five, which had caused quite a stir back then. Itō had heard the rumors.
Nan continued, "After I started school, I had less time to visit the hospital. Then, after my mother's passing, I was hit hard emotionally… I ended up giving up on medical ninjutsu for a while. It's been a long time since I last helped out there."
As he finished speaking, he even squeezed out a few tears, doing his best to appear sorrowful.
Itō already knew most of this background, but Nan's absence from class was unprecedented. He waited as the boy continued.
"After my mother died, I started thinking medical ninjutsu was useless. I believed only by mastering powerful combat techniques could I protect the people I love—or even save others. So I gave up healing and threw myself into combat training."
In this regard, Nan and Han were eerily alike—perhaps a testament to their blood ties as brothers.
"I thought that by becoming strong, I could protect everyone important to me. I didn't want to lose anyone else."
"I've been at the academy for a year now. During that time, I made friends and started to see things differently."
Not that I actually remember any of their names… he mused silently. But whatever—let the nonsense roll.
Suddenly, Nan's somber tone shifted to one of conviction.
"But now I understand: no matter how strong one person becomes, there's a limit. Yet when the entire village comes together, its strength is limitless."
"The ninja of Konoha are fighting and dying on the front lines for peace. I want to do my part for the village too. Even if I can't fight at the front, I can still save a wounded ninja in the village—and that could lighten the burden on the battlefield. That's more meaningful than training alone to become strong."
Itō was taken aback. He hadn't expected such a young student to express such a mature and well-formed philosophy.
Nan didn't give him time to respond and pushed on with his performance.
"I want to resume my training in medical ninjutsu—but I also don't want to give up becoming a powerful ninja. The problem is, I don't have enough time to balance both."
"So yesterday afternoon… I was trying to come up with a solution."
"Oh?" Itō asked, intrigued. "Did you come up with anything?"
The war situation was dire.
Konoha was essentially under siege on three fronts, and every department was stretched thin. Itō fully understood Nan's desire to contribute quickly to the war effort.
But he also knew that time and energy were finite. There were many paths a shinobi could take, but very few could ever reach the pinnacle in more than one.
There was no denying Nan was a genius, but even so, achieving mastery in two distinct fields? Itō couldn't imagine how that would be possible.
"I've figured it out," Nan said confidently.
His response caught Itō completely off guard. He actually thought of a way? Intrigued, Itō quickly asked, "What's your plan?"
"Yesterday afternoon, I tested out a jutsu—the Shadow Clone Technique," Nan explained. "And I discovered something special about it. When a shadow clone is dispelled, its memories return to the original body."
"So I thought… what if I used a shadow clone to attend class in my place? That way, my real body could use that time to train in other areas."
Itō blinked in surprise. The Shadow Clone Technique? He knew it well—he had learned it himself. And he was fully aware of its most unique trait: memory synchronization upon dispersal.
In fact, this very method had occurred to others before—using shadow clones for accelerated training. But the problem was the enormous chakra consumption. Most people struggled just to perform the jutsu, let alone maintain it for long enough to make it practical. I certainly can't do it for more than a few minutes, he thought.
"Using a shadow clone in class means maintaining the jutsu for a long time. Are you sure you can handle it?" Itō asked, still skeptical.
"No problem," Nan replied smoothly. "I tested it yesterday. My shadow clone lasted several hours while I used it to train. If it's just sitting through a class, I'm confident I can maintain it for a whole school day."
"And even if it's a combat class, I can just switch out with the real me beforehand. It won't cause any problems."
---
Itō was left speechless. For a six-year-old to perform the Shadow Clone Technique at all was already beyond extraordinary.
But not only could Nan use it—he could maintain it for hours and even use it for training. That meant his chakra reserves were already beyond those of a typical chūnin—possibly even greater than Itō's own.
It was a revelation so shocking it felt almost mythical. And the boy was only six years old. Itō could hardly imagine how vast his chakra would become once he fully matured.
He considered, briefly, whether Nan might be exaggerating or lying. But this was the same child who had mastered medical ninjutsu at the age of five—a feat that had made waves at the time. That alone meant his chakra reserves had already reached the level of a qualified shinobi a year ago.
And after a full year of formal academy training? It wasn't impossible that he'd already surpassed many adults.
"I remember hearing about a kid years ago who graduated from the academy in one year and made chūnin the year after. Compared to him… Nan might not be any less talented."
Itō could only sigh in admiration.
A genius. A true genius.