The teacher stood at the front of the classroom, posture stiff, voice overly dramatic—like he thought this was some grand unveiling of ancient wisdom instead of the same explanation every Academy student since forever had heard.
"Chakra," he announced, "is the life energy produced inside the body. It flows through the Chakra Pathway System—"
Oh, joy, I thought. Here we go.
"It is created by mixing physical energy—gathered from the body's cells—and spiritual energy—moulded by the mind. When combined correctly, chakra allows us to perform jutsu. With training, shinobi learn to produce more chakra, circulate it efficiently, and release it through their chakrapoints."
I slumped forward, cheek pressed against my palm.
I had heard this from Mira already. Several times. Usually with diagrams. And threats.
The teacher continued, now gesturing dramatically at a chalk drawing that looked like a sad stick figure tangled in spaghetti.
"If you use up all your chakra, you risk collapse. Or death. So control and moderation are essential."
Kids around me nodded like this was mind-blowing knowledge.
I stared out the window and imagined running home at full speed.
By the time he reached "basic chakra exercises" I had mentally escaped the classroom twenty-seven times.
As soon as the bell rang, I physically escaped too.
I sprinted home fast enough to make several civilians glance over in alarm. Father had promised training today. Finally, a Shadow clone!
He was waiting in the yard, arms crossed, expression serious in a way that made me stand straighter.
"Alright, Kuroha," he said. "Today we begin with the Shadow Clone Jutsu. But listen carefully—this is not a technique you play around with."
He crouched down, drawing a simple diagram on the ground.
"This jutsu splits your chakra. Evenly. One clone means half your chakra goes into it. Two clones mean a third each. And so on. Your reserves are decent, but not enough for more than two clones' total. So, you will make one. No discussion."
I nodded, though I'd already been planning at least two – But fine. One. For now.
"Shadow clones disperse when hit hard enough," he continued. "But before that, they can move, fight, speak, and learn. When they disperse, all their experiences and remaining chakra return to you. If you take too much information at once, you'll overwhelm your mind. Best-case scenario? A headache. Worst case?"
He gave me a look heavy enough to make even old man Mira proud. "Much worse."
He demonstrated the hand sign slowly.
"This is the seal. This is the flow of chakra. And this" – he inhaled – "is the jutsu."
A perfect copy of him appeared beside him. It smiled, waved, then gently dispersed.
He gestured at me. "Your turn."
I inhaled, formed the seal, and pushed my chakra forward.
There was a poof—and a… shape… formed.
It had my hair. Sort of. If my hair had been electrocuted. And its face looked like it had partially melted off.
"Wow," Father murmured. "Terrifying."
I tried again. Another poof.
This clone looked like me after losing a fight with a blender.
"Again," Father said. Third attempt. Poof.
This one simply fell over like it had been born exhausted.
I raised my hands to try again—but Father caught my wrist.
"Enough. Too much chakra expenditure. You only get two tries in the morning and three in the evening. If you ignore that rule, you'll pass out before dinner."
I huffed. "But I can go again–"
"No." He smiled slightly. "You'll get it. But not by brute-forcing it. Come on. Let's go eat. Ichiraku?" – „I would never say no too that! "
Dinner at Ichiraku tasted better than usual—maybe because exhaustion sharpened everything,
We walked home through dimming streets, lanterns flickering alive one by one. Konoha felt strangely calm. Too calm. Like the whole village was holding its breath.
When we rounded the corner toward our house a distant shout cut through the quiet.
Voices rose—people leaning out windows, adults spilling into the streets, children tugged awake and dragged toward the noise.
Father stopped walking. So, did I.
A Chūnin sprinted down the main road, waving a scroll above his head.
"Attention! Official announcement from the Hokage's office—!"
More shinobi spread across the streets, repeating the same message, breathless and loud: "The Third Shinobi War is over! The war is over!"
Father exhaled shakily beside me.
I stayed quiet, listening to the wave of reactions rolling through the village.
Laughter. Sobs. Shouting. Firecrackers. A baby crying.
Father placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Your mother will be home soon," he said softly. "We'll be a family again."
I wanted to smile. I really did.
But the rumours Father mentioned earlier echoed in my head like a bad aftertaste.
The Uchiha aren't giving their all.
And now that the fighting had stopped… those whispers would only get louder.
People always needed someone to blame after a war. And I know how this Is going to end.
I need to become stronger!