The weeks at the Ninja Academy flew by, establishing a routine that, to most of the children, felt like little more than a continuation of childhood games.
However, the shinobi curriculum was vast. The class schedule covered Shurikenjutsu (weapon throwing), the history of the Great Shinobi Wars, basic trap crafting, wilderness survival, rudimentary tracking, and the dense theory of Genjutsu.
The class leveling became clear quickly. Sasuke Uchiha dominated Shurikenjutsu with absurd ease, hitting targets with the lethal precision inherited from his bloodline. Sakura, on the other hand, boasted the highest theoretical grades in the room and an enviable initial chakra control.
Shikamaru slept through every theory class, but somehow, annoyingly, passed every test. Kiba relied almost entirely on Akamaru's sense of smell for tracking exams. Meanwhile, Naruto, despite failing miserably at theory and fine chakra manipulation, shocked even the teachers with his demonic stamina and unshakeable endurance in obstacle courses.
And Matsuri?
He purposely kept himself in the "above average" zone. He wasn't the flashy genius, but he wasn't a failure either. Secretly, however, the reality was different. While the teachers lectured about the village's history, beneath his dark, high-collared shirt, Matsuri already kept five leaves perfectly stuck to his chest, abdomen, and back, training the automation of his chakra flow while merely breathing.
On a warm, orange late afternoon after classes ended, Matsuri found himself in an isolated clearing in the forest, far from the village's prying eyes.
The wooden replica of the White Light Chakra Sabre whistled through the air. Matsuri was sweating. He was trying, for the hundredth time, to apply the concept of circular inertia, the Mai, and the abrupt speed transition, the Jo-Ha-Kyū.
He closed his eyes and remembered Madara Uchiha's macabre dance from his past life. He tried to spin on his own axis, using the linear momentum of an imaginary enemy's unseen strike to throw them off.
But reality struck hard. His left foot slipped on the loose dirt. The weight of the wooden sword pulled his shoulder down, breaking his posture, and he almost fell face-first onto the ground.
Matsuri sighed, massaging his aching wrist. His six-year-old child body was clumsy. He lacked the proper muscle memory. The theory of the Interception Style was brilliant in his mind, but the physical execution failed miserably because he had never had a real Kenjutsu teacher. He didn't know the basic physics of a shinobi sword strike.
Suddenly, the air seemed to grow heavier.
His Nature Breathing, always active at a passive level, caught a tiny distortion in the environment. The sound of the leaves in the trees above him didn't match the rhythm of the wind.
Matsuri's heart skipped a beat.
Immediately, he triggered his survival mode, but fused it with tactical acting. He gripped the hilt of the wooden sword and assumed a rigid defensive stance, looking upward with slightly wide eyes, faking the natural nervousness of a civilian student being "ambushed."
"You have good instincts, kid," a friendly voice, yet laden with undeniable authority, echoed from the branches.
A figure dropped silently from the tree, landing softly on the plush dirt without making a single sound. He wore the standard Konoha flak jacket and carried a short sword strapped to his back.
It was Shisui Uchiha. The Prodigy of the Shunshin.
Behind the fabric mask, Matsuri's jaw clenched.
The Temporal Shock. The knowledge of his past life hit him like a brutal punch to the stomach. If Shisui is alive... and patrolling the forests with this subtle tension in his shoulders... the Uchiha Rebellion is at its peak.
The countdown of destiny began to scream in Matsuri's mind. The clan massacre was months, maybe mere weeks away. The cozy peace of the Academy was a fragile lie. Konoha was on the verge of a bloodbath, and Matsuri felt the despair of his own weakness crawl up his spine. He had absolutely no power to stop the approaching tragedy.
"Easy, easy, no need to look so tense," Shisui raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, flashing a disarming smile. "I was patrolling the outskirts of the Uchiha district and decided to detour. My little cousin Sasuke won't stop grumbling about a 'weird pink-haired kid with a mask who fights without using force.' I got curious."
Shisui tilted his head, analyzing Matsuri's dark clothing and the wooden sword. A nostalgic glint flashed through his dark eyes.
"And I have to admit, your outfit and the shape of that sword... they really remind me of a good friend of mine from the Anbu. Kakashi would be flattered."
Internally, Matsuri processed the information at lightspeed. Knowing Shisui's protective and kind personality through lore, he knew exactly what to do. Matsuri let out a heavy breath, audibly relaxing his shoulders and lowering the wooden sword like a boy who had just realized he wasn't in danger.
"You almost scared me to death, Uchiha-san," Matsuri murmured, keeping his tone respectful.
"Shisui. You can call me Shisui," he replied, walking to the center of the clearing. He picked up a straight tree branch from the ground and swung it lightly. "Those movements of yours just now... they're far too ambitious for your own legs. You have the right idea trying to use momentum, but you're executing it like a stiff log."
Shisui pointed the branch at Matsuri. "Attack me. Let's see what pissed Sasuke off so much."
Matsuri didn't hesitate. He knew it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He lunged forward quickly, trying to apply the Interception Style. He aimed a thrust at Shisui's chest, ready to redirect the Uchiha's block.
But there was no block.
There was only a blur.
The disparity was overwhelming. Shisui used no brute strength. He used pure positioning. Before Matsuri could process the image, the true mastery of the Mai and the Shunshin manifested. The branch in Shisui's hand tapped Matsuri's neck. Then his wrist. Then the back of his knee. All before the pink-haired boy could even blink.
Matsuri froze, feeling a freezing chill run down the back of his neck. This is a Kage's level. I am nothing.
Shisui didn't smile arrogantly. Instead, he used the branch to correct Matsuri's hands on the hilt of the wooden sword.
"You're using your shoulder strength to try and spin your body," Shisui explained with the patience of an older brother. "That breaks your balance and makes you slow. In Kenjutsu, you use wrist flexibility and the weight of the blade itself. Let the weapon's momentum guide your body, not the other way around."
Matsuri absorbed the instruction instantly. He readjusted his grip, loosening his shoulders and tensioning only his wrists. He swung the sword again. The movement, previously clumsy, now flowed through the air with a clean hum, and his balance remained perfect.
Shisui's eyes widened a fraction of an inch, genuinely surprised by the boy's monstrous adaptability.
"Impressive," Shisui praised genuinely. He tossed the branch away. "Keep pushing Sasuke upward, Matsuri. He's lucky to have someone with such a hunger to learn around."
Before Matsuri could thank him, Shisui's figure flickered. With the sound of rustling leaves and the distant cry of an illusory crow, the Uchiha vanished into thin air.
Matsuri stood alone in the clearing. He looked up at the sky, which was now taking on the dark hues of night.
His grip on the sword hilt tightened. He didn't need to, and couldn't, save Shisui or stop the Uchiha Massacre. That was bigger than him. But the clock was ticking. He needed to absorb everything he could and accelerate his training to the limit.
Because when Sasuke and Naruto's world collapsed, Matsuri would be the only pillar strong enough to hold them up.
[Author's Note] Hello everyone, I hope you are enjoying Matsuri's journey! Writing and planning each chapter takes a lot of time, dedication, and effort (even more so dealing with hand pain from the keyboard!). If you like my work, believe in the potential of this story, and want to encourage me to keep posting frequently, please consider supporting me with any amount. Every bit of help makes a huge difference and motivates me a lot! ☕ To support (PIX[Mercado Pago] or PayPal): [email protected] Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and for all the support! ❤️