At exactly eight in the morning, the freshly formed Team Eleven gathered at their assigned training ground. The air still carried the coolness of night, but the sun was already climbing steadily over the horizon, painting the clouds with gentle gold. The grass beneath their feet was wet with dew, and silence reigned around them—only the distant rustling of treetops broke it.
"Looks like my genin are punctual," Yamato chuckled with satisfaction, glancing at his pocket watch. "Good. Punctuality is the mark of a proper shinobi."
Karin froze for a moment, as if unsure the praise had been meant for her, then broke into a timid smile. Her cheeks flushed faintly pink. The twins, however, just exchanged looks and shrugged in perfect sync, as though it were nothing special. For them, arriving on time was second nature—if you didn't show up, you'd miss the fun.
"I think you've already guessed why this particular field is numbered Eleven," Yamato began, gesturing toward the wide clearing free of trees. "It's assigned specifically to our team. You can come here anytime and treat this place as your own. And if outsiders try to use it—kick them out without hesitation."
"Yamato-sensei," Menma said calmly, though there was a flicker of interest in his eyes, "what if the team breaks up? Say everyone becomes chunin. Where do they train then?"
"Hmm." Yamato tilted his head slightly, considering how to explain. "It's simple. Once you advance in rank, you find your own place. You can buy land, rent it, ask a friend for space—"
"Or become a teacher yourself and get a team with its own training ground," Naruko drawled with a mischievous grin.
"That too," Yamato answered warmly, allowing a small smile.
He clapped his hands to draw their focus.
"As I said yesterday, today I want to test your combat skills. Each of you will face me one-on-one. This isn't an exam, just an assessment."
"Um…" Karin raised her hand as if still in a classroom. "Do kunoichi really have to fight?"
Naruko groaned loudly and slapped her palm to her face with theatrical despair.
"Karin-chan, you just insulted every kunoichi alive! Even Tsunade is probably shedding a tear somewhere!"
"No," Yamato said, pretending not to hear Naruko's remark. His voice was serious yet gentle. "Not everyone is bound to fight for their whole life. There are plenty of professions—medics, analysts, code-breakers. You don't have to be on the front lines, Karin. But every shinobi must at least know basic self-defense."
"I understand," she sighed quietly, conceding.
Yamato's expression grew slightly stricter as he looked over the trio.
"Right now, I need you all to give me your full effort. I know some techniques are usually kept secret, but I have to understand your abilities in order to assign missions properly. Clear?"
"Yes, sensei," Karin answered, straightening.
The twins exchanged a glance and smirked faintly. They had already decided long ago what to show—and what to keep hidden.
"You'll be fighting against my clone," Yamato announced.
He quickly wove hand signs, and wooden sprouts burst from his body, twisting together until they formed his exact double.
"Whoa!" Naruko practically jumped with excitement. "Wood Release?! Yamato-sensei, are you related to Hashirama?!"
Yamato scratched his head sheepishly.
"You could say that. In any case, this is my main strength. Now you know what to expect from me—and I want to see the same from you. So… who's first?"
The twins stepped forward at the same time.
"No, no," Yamato shook his head. "One at a time. I need to see each of your strengths and weaknesses."
"Yamato-sensei," Menma countered calmly, "we fight as a pair. Think of us like the Inuzuka with their dogs."
"But our bites hurt a lot more," Naruko smirked, flashing her fangs.
Yamato hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"Fine. I'll allow it. But attack me seriously. Don't hold back—this is only a clone."
He moved aside with Karin, leaving the field to his wooden double.
"The test begins," the clone declared, drawing a kunai and settling into stance. "Come at me!"
Without a word, Menma pulled out a shuriken and flicked it forward. The throw looked deceptively lazy, almost careless. Yamato raised his kunai to deflect it—then narrowed his eyes. A split second before impact, the metal multiplied into a dozen copies.
The clone failed to dodge and instantly substituted with a log. The shuriken clattered into the wood with a sharp thud.
"Impressive," Yamato's voice came from underground. His hand emerged first, then the rest of him rose as if surfacing from water. "Shuriken Shadow Clone Technique? Hm… a signature move of the Hokage."
"Yep!" Naruko twirled a shuriken around her finger like a toy. "Gramps gave it to us for our birthday. We can shower a target from both sides all day long. Think you've buried enough logs ahead of time?"
"No need," Yamato shook his head. "I've seen your skill with weapons. Now I want to see your taijutsu."
The twins burst forward in perfect unison. Their movements were so precisely matched it was as if a single string pulled two puppets at once. In the next instant, chains of adamantine shot from their palms—slender yet unyielding, glowing faintly with chakra. The ends connected back to their hands, forming two flexible lines that seemed alive, writhing through the air.
Bound by chains, they pressed the attack. Stretching and snapping back in sudden bursts, the chains turned into lethal whips that tangled Yamato's clone. Their beastlike senses let the twins track his every twitch—the quick shift of a shoulder, the subtle tightening of muscles before a subterranean move, even the faint rhythm of his breath. With each passing moment, the jonin struggled more to fend them off. Every synchronized lash of the chains was followed by a precise volley of shuriken and kunai raining into his blind spots.
Then the chains twisted through the air and locked around Yamato's neck. A sharp tug—and victory was practically in their grasp. But at the last second, their sensei was gone, replaced by a simple log that splintered under the crushing force.
"An interesting style," came a voice from behind. Yamato rose from the ground, brushing himself off, instinctively running a hand over his neck as if to make sure it was still intact. "There's a certain unpredictability to it. Reminds me of a jinchūriki from Kumo who fights with eight blades. I'd say only a Sharingan could keep up with your movements."
"Sharingan?" Menma smirked. "We already tested that on Sasuke. He ended the same way you just did."
Yamato narrowed his eyes, clearly stung.
"Even so, your style isn't flawless," he said quietly.
The ground trembled. A wooden spike erupted upward, pinning their chains to the dirt.
But the twins didn't hesitate. Thousands of training hours paid off—the chains dissolved like a mirage, and in the same instant they flanked Yamato from opposite sides. Their palms flared with chakra, unleashing new chains tipped with sharp points that shot toward the clone with the force of cannon fire.
Yamato tried to substitute—only to realize he couldn't. Shock flickered across his face while the twins were already grinning.
Their free palms pressed to the ground, firing two more chains downward. They tore apart the hidden logs buried beneath the field. The clone had no options left.
The chains pierced into him with a splintering crack.
"Yamato-sensei!" Karin squeaked, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing her hands to her face.
The twins grinned in triumph… only to frown a moment later.
Wood shattered and fell away, and beside it stood the real Yamato, branches still sprouting from his body.
[That's Danzo's technique… the same one he used against Susanoo's arrow? If I'm remembering right, it eats through chakra like crazy.]
"A shinobi must always have a backup," Yamato said with a weary smile. But his labored breathing and the sweat on his brow betrayed that his clone had already been pushed to its limits.
"Time to chop some firewood," Naruko bared her teeth in a feral grin.
The chains in their hands fused together and began to spin, back and forth, like the blades of a saw. Faster and faster they whirled, the air howling, the grass flattening under the surging chakra. In the next instant, the tree Yamato had used as cover toppled as if axed, and the deadly saw roared straight at him.
"Enough!" he barked, leaping aside. "I've seen enough!"
The twins stopped in sync, canceling the technique. Chakra still surged hot through their veins, but they felt little fatigue.
"That was amazing!" Karin gasped in awe as they rejoined her. "You two are just… so cool!"
"Karin-chan," Naruko beamed, "you're cool too! You're an Uzumaki!"
Karin blushed, but the words clearly gave her courage. She drew in a deep breath and stepped forward.
The fight, however, was a sorry sight. Menma almost felt ashamed on her behalf. Karin moved sluggishly, her strikes were weak, and Yamato dodged with ease, casually twirling a kunai in his free hand as if mocking her. When she finally mustered the will to throw a shuriken, it sailed a full meter wide of its target.
And then things got worse. Suddenly she began flailing at the empty air, fists swinging wildly at an opponent who wasn't there.
"Genjutsu," Menma noted coldly.
"That's enough," the real Yamato said. His clone burst apart into splinters, and Karin blinked, as if waking from a dream.
The Uzumaki trio sat down in the grass before their sensei. Karin looked dejected, and not even Naruko's encouraging pats on the shoulder could lift her mood.
"Let's start with you two," Yamato said, folding his arms and fixing the twins with a steady look. "Your chakra control is outstanding. Every genjutsu I tried on you dispelled automatically. I'll put it this way—this is one of the key requirements for a jonin. It doesn't matter how many jutsu you know; if all your techniques fizzle against an opponent, you're useless."
Menma and Naruko slapped their palms together in perfect sync. Genjutsu had long been their personal enemy number one—and they'd spent years learning how to counter it.
"But I noticed," Yamato narrowed his eyes, studying the twins, "neither of you even tried to put me under genjutsu."
"Why would we?" Menma shrugged, as if the question were too obvious. "You said it yourself—using genjutsu on a jonin is pointless."
"Fair enough," Yamato nodded, though a spark of interest flashed in his eyes. "Still, I need to know—do you have any skill in that field at all?"
"Well…" Menma cast a reluctant glance at Naruko. "We know one technique. But it's too specific—doesn't really work for sparring."
"I see," the sensei nodded slowly, lost in thought.
He laced his fingers together and went on:
"Your taijutsu is remarkable. For fresh genin to have their own fighting style, and such a unique one at that… normally you only see that with the Hyūga. And your speed and strength—at your age, that's usually something only the Inuzuka or Akimichi can match."
"Pfft!" Naruko lifted her head, her pupils flashing with a beastlike gleam. "We're better! We're Uzumaki!"
"And I've never forgotten that," Yamato replied with a gentle smile.
He leaned forward slightly, his tone more serious now:
"Your ninjutsu is excellent. The Shuriken Shadow Clone Technique, created by the Hokage, has slaughtered hundreds of enemies. And your adamantine chains can pierce most earth-based defenses. Your sensory skills are strong too—spotting my buried logs right away deserves praise. And one more thing—you didn't use a single hand sign. I take it you've chosen quality over quantity of techniques?"
"Something like that," Menma answered vaguely.
He didn't bother clarifying that they had fewer than ten techniques total—but each had been polished to perfection.
"Well then…" Yamato rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You already have abilities on par with a jonin. The only thing you lack is experience."
The twins exchanged a glance and smirked in sync. To them, that was the highest compliment.
"And that," Yamato continued, "is the real problem. A sensei isn't supposed to pass down his personal techniques. My duty is to cover what the academy didn't. To shore up the basics you might have skipped."
[Just earned himself a few points in my book. Sure, he's not as meme-worthy as Kakashi or Gai, but at least he's sane and doesn't spout lofty speeches.]
"You've both mastered tree- and water-walking, I assume?" the sensei asked.
The twins nodded together.
"Killing intent?" Yamato asked carefully.
Another nod.
"At least elemental transformations, then?" he asked hopefully.
"No," Menma answered calmly. "Haven't gotten there yet. We had… other things to do."
Relief flickered across Yamato's face—only to vanish when Menma added:
"And we don't need your guidance. We've got scrolls with instructions for all five elements."
"I see," Yamato sighed heavily. "Looks like all I can do is share my experience."
He turned to Karin.
"All right. Your turn. Through the entire spar, you didn't use a single technique. Do you not have any?"
"I do," she whispered, clenching her fists slightly. "I… I'm a decent sensor. Want me to show you?"
Yamato nodded.
Karin ran through five quick seals, then closed her eyes, straining as though trying to sense something. Ten long seconds passed. Menma frowned, a hot shame burning inside him.
[This is a disaster. At this level she'll be killed on her first mission. We need to fix this, fast.]
"Anything else?" Yamato asked, unimpressed.
"I…" Karin tugged at her sleeve and lowered her gaze. "I can heal…"
"I know what you mean," Yamato cut her off with a gesture. "The Hokage told me about your ability. It's not needed right now."
He fell silent for a moment, thinking, then spoke carefully:
"I don't know how to put this gently… Karin, you're in bad shape." He looked away when her eyes grew wet. "No taijutsu. No genjutsu. Ninjutsu… almost none. You don't even know the three basic techniques. It looks like I'll have to start teaching you from scratch."
"You won't," Menma said firmly, patting her on the back. "We'll teach her the basics ourselves. Give us six months, and Karin will be stronger than half the graduates."
Karin flushed—half with embarrassment, half with joy.
"Given your performance today, Menma, I can't doubt your words," Yamato said with a small smile. "In that case, I'll limit my role to sharing experience and keeping you sharp."
He stood, clasped his hands behind his back, and said:
"Which means—it's time to take your first D-rank mission."
/////
Author notes:
I do have a Patreon, where the story is already 10 chapters ahead.
If you'd like to support me personally as an author, I'd be truly grateful.
patreon.com/Vetrax