The overcast sky that had hung all morning finally allowed a thin ray of sunlight to break through, spilling lazily across the vast expanse of the Third Training Ground.
A few withered leaves spiraled down, landing on the dew-damp earth, only to be swept away again by a passing chill wind.
Tsunade stood at the edge of the field, arms folded, her brows furrowed in habitual irritation.
It had only been a few days since she had finished handling her grandmother Mito's funeral, followed by Hiruzen's endless roaring lectures. The restless agitation in her chest had yet to fade.
Her eyes drifted over to where Kushina was clinging to Ryo, chatting animatedly about who knew what. Tsunade shot them a sharp glare.
Her gaze finally settled on Mikoto, standing neatly in the center of the training field.
Tsunade had to admit, the girl's bearing was exceptional.
Her raven hair was tied back with a silk ribbon embroidered with the Uchiha clan's fan crest, revealing a smooth forehead and a slender neck.
The modified dark high-collared training uniform outlined the budding elegance of youth, her movements infused with that innate Uchiha nobility carved deep into her bones.
Composed expression, lips curved in a polite smile.
A textbook noble lady.
Tsunade snorted inwardly.
Delicate little doll like this… Her eyes flicked from Mikoto's slim limbs to her own increasingly violent little sister Kushina, and then to that freakishly strong "apprentice" Ryo.
The battlefield isn't a temple fair.
Kushina's endless pestering, plus that old fox Hiruzen's attempt to "make amends" by shoving this girl into Ryo's team… Tsunade rubbed her throbbing temples.
Life and death are fate. If Mikoto dares to be a ninja, she had better have the resolve that comes with it.
Clearing her throat, Tsunade spoke, not loudly, but with that commanding presence only a top-tier shinobi possessed. It immediately silenced Kushina's chattering.
"Nawaki, step forward."
Nawaki, who had been fidgeting with excitement and sneaking glances at Mikoto, jumped to attention.
"Yes, sis!"
His face glowed with barely contained enthusiasm, his cheeks even flushed red.
"You." Tsunade pointed at Mikoto, her tone brisk and decisive. "Spar with her. Let's see what you've got."
Nawaki spun to face Mikoto, took a deep breath, trying to sound steady, but his eyes betrayed his nervousness.
"M–Mikoto, please take it easy on me."
He could feel his heart hammering behind his ribs.
His long-time crush, the perfect girl in every sense: face, figure, poise, talent.
That gentle, refined aura so unlike his violent older sister—it was lethal to a boy who had grown up under Tsunade's rule.
Mikoto dipped her head gracefully. "Nawaki-senpai, please go easy on me."
Her stance was textbook-perfect, eyes focused, completely ignoring Kushina's silly winks from the sideline.
Tsunade didn't even bother raising an eyelid. She exhaled sharply through her nose. "Begin."
Nawaki's blood surged. He roared to psych himself up, drove his foot into the ground, and charged—a full-force frontal attack.
Powerful, aggressive, but predictable.
Mikoto reacted instantly, sidestepping and raising both hands.
Shhh! Shhh! Shhh!
A flurry of kunai flew out at impossible angles, sealing Nawaki's path forward.
Classic Uchiha shuriken technique—her fundamentals were solid.
Nawaki gasped, abruptly braking his charge and tumbling awkwardly into a roll, spraying mud all over himself.
Embarrassing, he groaned inwardly, hastily weaving signs.
"Earth Release: Mud Wall!"
The wall rose, but before he could catch his breath, Mikoto had already finished her own sequence.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
A blazing orange sphere the size of a basin roared forward, smashing into the earthen wall with a thunderous boom. The wall shuddered and crumbled, scattering burning fragments that forced Nawaki to retreat several steps.
Wiping the sweat and soot from his face, Nawaki was both awed and anxious. She's good—really good. No backing down.
"Water Release: Wild Water Wave!"
He inhaled sharply and unleashed a torrent.
Mikoto, calm and poised, danced lightly across the wet ground, moving like a butterfly through flowers. The water hissed past as her shuriken continued to harass Nawaki with uncanny accuracy.
The exchange quickened—fire, water, steel, and shouts colliding in the air.
Nawaki had more chakra and brute force, but lacked flexibility. Mikoto's movements were refined, her ninjutsu fluid, her shuriken work deadly precise.
Flames flared, water splashed, metal clashed, it looked impressive enough.
But to Tsunade and Ryo, it was little more than two rookies flailing.
Tsunade nearly yawned. Ryo didn't even bother focusing on the match; his eyes occasionally drifted toward Kushina, who was busy digging at the dirt with a rock.
"Stop, stop, stop." Tsunade finally waved her hand, impatience dripping from her voice. "Enough. You've been floundering for half a day, my nap's over already."
Both combatants immediately halted, breathing hard.
Nawaki looked crushed, so much for impressing his crush.
Mikoto's face was flushed from exertion, strands of hair clinging to her cheek, making her appear even softer, but her stance remained steady.
Tsunade stepped between them, her sharp eyes landing first on Nawaki.
"How many times have I told you? Growing taller doesn't mean growing smarter. Charging headlong without thinking, keep that up and you'll be cannon fodder on the battlefield."
Nawaki winced, shrinking under her glare, face burning with embarrassment.
Then Tsunade turned to Mikoto. Her tone eased a fraction, though still cool.
"Your basics are solid. The Uchiha upbringing shows. Good with weapons, passable taijutsu, average ninjutsu."
She paused, studying Mikoto's calm yet expectant dark eyes, deciding bluntness was best.
"Girl, I'll be honest with you."
Mikoto's heartbeat stuttered. Her practiced smile stiffened slightly.
"Frankly," Tsunade folded her arms, "a delicate girl like you should've gone into medical training."
Her eyes flicked toward Kushina, who had perked up instantly, nervous as a cat. Tsunade's lips twitched.
"But my foolish little sister wouldn't stop crying and clinging to my leg, begging me to take you in. Well, even fools get lucky sometimes. It's rare she's found someone who treats her like a true friend."
Tsunade's words struck Mikoto's heart like a hammer.
Her noble composure cracked; the serenity in her eyes shattered into shock, disbelief, and then overwhelming gratitude.
Kushina… it was really because of her…?
Tsunade didn't pause. Her gaze deepened slightly, her voice lower, edged with weary realism.
"Besides, there are people in the village stirring things up, some political mess."
She meant Hiruzen's maneuvering.
Tsunade didn't elaborate. There was no need for a girl Mikoto's age to hear how the elders had shoved her into Ryo's team as "compensation" for clan politics.
"It's done. No point dwelling on it." Tsunade flicked her hand, brushing off the matter like dust. "Since you're in my Squad Eight now, you follow my rules. The battlefield isn't a playground. Understood?"
"Yes, Tsunade-sama." Mikoto answered clearly, voice trembling but firm.
"Dismissed."
Nawaki drooped as Tsunade dragged him off by the ear, lecturing the whole way.
Kushina bounded toward Ryo, full of excitement, proudly boasting about how she had "helped her best friend" join the team.
Ryo let her tug his arm, his face as unreadable as ever, listening silently to her cheerful chatter.
No one noticed the storm quietly brewing in Mikoto's eyes.
The last rays of sunlight vanished behind a blanket of gray clouds, pressing down on Konoha with a suffocating weight.
The long street of the Uchiha compound, filled with the faint scent of old sandalwood and the cold air of proud isolation, now felt to Mikoto like a lonely, endless prison corridor.
Tsunade's words—"Kushina clung to my leg, crying and begging me to take you in"—seared into her mind like a hot iron.
Kushina's face, always smiling so openly, so trustingly, rose vividly in her memory. She had always treated Mikoto as her dearest friend. Since their academy days, that had never changed.
Her joys, her troubles, her silly infatuation with Ryo, all had been shared without reservation.
Even those ridiculous "how to win Ryo's heart" plans, they had designed together.
Guilt surged through Mikoto's chest like an icy tide, drowning her instantly.
What have I done?
Her grandfather's voice echoed in her mind like a curse.
"Power is a woman's nourishment. The wife of the Hokage, Uchiha will rise over Senju."
"Kushina's fate is tragedy. She's a Jinchūriki, a prisoner for life."
"That Ryo boy is your ladder to the top. Use your bride training to control him."
That cursed "bride training"… every time she had helped Kushina devise ways to charm Ryo, every time she had watched his reactions under the guise of helping her friend, she had merely been rehearsing how to steal him.
Rehearsing how to take her best friend's beloved for herself.
For the sake of power.
For the sake of her clan's ambition.
Shame. Betrayal. The thrill of forbidden desire. Guilt as thick as poison vines wrapped around her heart, choking her breath.
Ryo's image burned in her mind.
Cold. Powerful. Unshakable as a mountain.
And yet, he showed that rare, tender indulgence only toward Kushina, enough to make Mikoto ache with jealousy.
The Hokage's wife… Uchiha's glory… my own ambition…
Her grandfather's expectations, her clan's burden.
That forced destiny, that feeling of being used as a bargaining chip, it all boiled over again.
Her thoughts tangled into chaos, her mind a battlefield of colliding armies.
Gratitude and betrayal tore at each other.
Duty and desire clashed violently.
Her secret longing for Ryo warred with her guilt toward Kushina.
Anger at being manipulated and shame at being exposed churned together.
All of it fused into one molten, explosive surge within her chest.
"Ugh—" She stumbled at the Uchiha gate, nearly falling against the cold stone steps, nails digging into her palms.
At that instant, something inside her shattered.
The world suddenly shifted.
Color drained from her vision. Everything dissolved into stark black and white—cold, jagged outlines of stone steps, twisted door frames, and the faded Uchiha crest above.
Then from deep within her eyes, a searing crimson light burst forth.
Like a drop of blood falling into still water, spreading outward.
The Sharingan had awakened.
A single black tomoe slowly took form within the red, spinning faintly in her eye.
Mikoto clutched her face, warm tears slipping silently through her fingers, while her other eye burned cold, the tomoe whirling in eerie stillness.
The monochrome world before her seemed frozen and distorted, her heart pounding violently in her chest.
The storm of emotion still raged within her, but now, the newborn power of her Sharingan suppressed it, sealing the chaos beneath a layer of icy calm.
(To be continued.)
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◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 200 Power Stones.
◇ You can read the ahead chapter on Pat if you're interested: p-atreon.c-om/Blownleaves (Just remove the hyphen to access normally.)