Reborn as a Yamanaka Genius

SATOSHI YAMANAKA

The week at the academy blurred by like a nightmare—filled with children who knew not of the concept of personal space.

Shisui was a godsend in a classroom teeming with ill-mannered, hygiene-challenged ankle-biters. Yes, he was five, but as the saying goes, age is nothing but a number—for a genius. He was self-aware, asked questions that made sense, and was mentally cognizant of things a five-year-old wouldn't be—shouldn't be aware of.

It was glaringly obvious we stood out from our class. That we were more advanced, more intelligent, more quiet, more skilled (in, let's be honest, everything), more sensible, and more tolerable than the rest.

Our teacher let it be known more than once: "Quiet down, NPC 1! Be more like Satoshi and Shisui." She would say. Or: "Great job, boys (boys being us, of course). Keep up the fantastic work."

Then, she would go on to admonish the rest of the class for not being at our level, which was quite unfair, all things considered. I was a reincarnated man with limitless potential, and Shisui was a natural-born genius.

Surprisingly it didn't take but the end of the week for our teacher to hold us after class.

We waited quietly, always quietly, as the class filtered out for the day. As the last child left the room, she clicked her pen and organized the papers she was grading into a neat stack.

Leaning back in her chair, she gave us a look and spoke.

"Come here, boys."

We did as commanded and met her at her desk.

Tomita, always prim and proper with her wrinkle-free outfit, raised her head, examining both of us through her frames.

"How is school going for you two?"

I remained quiet, awaiting whatever response Shisui would conjure up to mask his boredom.

"School is going well." He managed.

"Hm," Tomita hummed, assessing, thoughtful, then her amber eyes met mine, and I offered a small smile in response.

"Same for me," I said. "It's going well."

"Uh-huh…" She held eye contact for a beat, then slowly crossed one leg over the other, her fingers drumming on her chair's armrest.

After a moment, she spoke. "I am well aware you two are bored. This class is a waste of your time."

"No, it isn't—"

"No need to lie, Shisui," Tomita said with a raised finger.

His finger twitched, almost imperceptible.

"Both of your test scores are perfect. Your Shurikenjutsu is perfect. Your taijutsu is perfect. You are—" Tomita paused, most likely refraining from saying you are perfect. "—years ahead of the others."

Her eyes then met mine with a hint of… knowing.

"And, Satoshi, you," Her fingers stopped tapping as she picked back up the pen lying across the graded papers.

It began moving around her fingers with nothing but chakra. It wobbled, unsteady as if it might drop at any second. Her eyes narrowed as the pen continued its stuttering journey around her digits.

"Can do something easily that I can barely manage." She said, placing the pen back atop the stack. "This class is holding you two back. I am holding you back."

She raised her finger again, stopping whatever consoling words Shisui would offer.

"That being said, you have been approved to skip ahead."

Two words stuck out from that sentence.

Approved—by whom? And the other—

"How far ahead?" I asked.

Her lips slowly curved into a smile. Something I've never seen her do. Her face was usually heavy, like it held a weight of something deep.

"Two as of now." She said, pausing for a beat to let her words sink in. "More, depending on how you do in an assessment."

I remained silent, calm. This was expected. We were advanced. More so than those years ahead of us.

The question for them—for the Hokage—was how advanced?

We chatted for a bit longer, and Tomita left us with: "Inform your parents. We need approval before any changes can be made."

Then Shisui and I left the class, trotting down the village to a place I didn't anticipate visiting so soon—the Uchiha compound.

"So," I started, my hands behind my back—feet, legs, and core doing their best to keep me balanced perfectly on these tengu-geta (a traditional Japanese sandal with a single wooden block—also referred to as a 'tooth').

It had been a week and a half since I started wearing two-toothed geta. A day with the one-tooth. Balance, coordination, focus, and control training, Daiki called it.

"Don't even start, Satoshi."

Shisui sped up, now walking ahead of me, obviously irritated that I won our most recent bet.

I kept pace, walking like a xianxia immortal whose every step implied that haste was for the unenlightened.

"I was just going to ask if your (clan) mom would let you skip ahead… bar you pass the assessment, that is."

Shisui successfully held back a side-eye. "She will."

There was no hesitation. No question about it.

He was an Uchiha. Showing their dominance was a stipulation for carrying their last name. Shisui had no choice in the decision. He would elevate and rise to whatever expectations the clan set for him like a good little five-year-old Uchiha.

"Are yours?" He asked. Footsteps light against the earth.

I hummed, thinking.

Dad wouldn't have a problem, but mom, on the other hand…

"Probably."

Her helicopter-esq parenting style dimmed over the years, but she was still a protective mother, and I loved her for it.

I had no qualms about her concerns or hesitations. She was just being a good mom—something many kids (in all worlds) didn't have. I was grateful. Blessed.

***

The walk to the Uchiha compound was basked in our silence and the surrounding vendor's chatter. They were selling food and trinkets alike—trying to make an honest living in this war-filled world.

It was pleasant.

I can see why other villages want a piece of Konoha's pie. Of its prosperity.

The land is fertile, the shinobi strong, the manufacturing development has risen over the past years, and the citizens are happy—blissfully unaware of what lies beneath the village's surface. Such is the way of things in Konoha.

As we reached his compound, I got a good look at the surroundings.

A fortress.

That was the first thing that came to mind.

Tall, imposing walls encompassed the entire compound. Four Uchiha guardsmen stood at attention. Their eyes honed on me.

We approached the entrance, and Shisui took the lead. "This is Satoshi Yamanaka. He will be training with me today."

The quartet peered down at Shisui, then at me as if trying to count the number of pores I had on my body. Then, after what felt like an eternity, one simply said, "Hn."

I assume Shisui took that verbal tick as approval since he waltzed inside.

Remaining silent, I followed his trail, my eyes roving over the enclosed compound. It was more… insular than I'd expected.

The warmth of the sun filtered through the high walls of the surrounding buildings, but it seemed muted. Restrained.

The compound was alive with adults and children alike moving through the streets and shops, yet it felt like there was a sense of separation? From outside its walls.

Shops lined the main street: seamstresses, an armory, a weapon shop, a bakery, even apothecaries. Everything an Uchiha might need was right here, walled in. Self-sufficient.

I felt eyes on me. Most subtle glances, a few others though, full-on eye examining me.

To them, I suppose, I was a curiosity.

I kept my chin up, returning their looks with a small, unbothered smile.

Let them stare.

They are, understandably, in the presence of the most beautiful person on this planet—I jest… mostly, anyway.

We continued our jaunt, making turns here and there, finally ending up in a secluded forest with wooden posts littering the space—marks and scruffs visible near the center of the bullseyes attached.

"So, this is where you usually train?"

"Yeah," Shisui said, moving towards a post, pulling a kunai out of its center. "Either here or at another training ground west."

My pinky twitched as I felt the wind abruptly shift from a jagged movement in one of the trees behind me.

[Someone's watching us.] I transmitted to Shisui.

His step faltered for a moment, but without missing a beat, said, "What did you want to work on today?"

"How about teaching me Uchiha Shurikenjutsu?"

I felt the wind, the air, quiver again.

Almost imperceptible, but there. Watching. Listening.

"I heard this clan's famous 'shuriken mastery' was a bit… exaggerated." I continued.

The air was flickering, trembling, now.

Shisui's eyes narrowed slightly as I offered a simple wink.

[Just go with it.] I sent.

"Okay," Shisui said, "To use the Uchiha Shurikenjutsu, you have to—"

The trembling, now a jagged pulse, broke.

Leaves and wind whooshed as a flicker of something—someone familiar appeared in between Shisui and me. 

"Don't you dare, Shisui!"

Well, that was easy.

My eyes flicked upward to the figure—a boy, at least twice our age, dressed in regular garbs, Uchiha crest proudly emblazoned on his shirt, tanto strapped to his back.

Forehead visible.

I've seen him in passing at the Academy several times—once posturing. The other time bullying one of my clansmen. She was a quiet, sweet eleven-year-old girl who was suited for administrative work, not the life of a murderer. 

"What do you think you're doing?" The boy practically hissed out, eyes drilling holes into Shisui's face.

"Shisui was about to—"

"I'm not speaking to you," He turned, eyes flicking over me with a look of utter disgust. "Trash."

"We're training, Kiburi. Please leave us alo—"

"I heard exactly what he asked you, Shisui." The boy snapped. "You were about to teach a Yamanaka a clan technique." I could virtually see steam coming from his head at this point—perhaps a bit of my imagination.

From his tone, his words, it was obvious this boy had some history with Shisui and knew about me. In what capacity? That was yet to be determined. But he clearly had an agenda for spying on us.

Not that Shisui was actually planning to teach me any Uchiha techniques. I only brought it up to rile up our little audience.

And when he was hidden, I could tell it was someone young—his size, the way the wind shifted around him. As one who's never been fond of Peeping Toms, I decided to… provoke him a little.

"I don't even know why they allowed you to train with—"

"Voyeurism."

Kiburi paused, thrown off, eyes darting towards me. "What?"

"Voyeurism," I repeated, plucking a stray leaf off my white kimono. "The thrill of watching others in secret, often for… personal pleasure. A rather unsavory habit, wouldn't you say, Go-Kiburi?"

His body stilled as he processed my words.

"What. Did you call me?"

"Hm," I tilted my head slightly. "Are you unsure if I called you a voyeur or a cockroach?" I smiled. "It's definitely both."

They were accurate representations, in my opinion. He was, sadly, an unfortunate-looking child.

Kiburi's face flushed red, jaw tightening as he stepped forward.

"Watch your mouth."

My eyes trailed to his tanto, then back to his furrowed gaze.

"Oh, I'm just calling it as I see it." I shrugged. "Though I suppose it must be frustrating, always lurking in the shadows, watching little boys. Perhaps you should consider a more… respectable hobby." 

Kiburi's fist clenched as he took another step forward.

"You could be imprisoned for peeping on little—" The words barely left my mouth before I leaned left, something solid and swift brushing past my cheek. I flickered away from Kiburi and his extended fist, leaving a few meters of space between us.

 "What are you doing, Kiburi?" Shisui yelled. A natural reaction after seeing your new BFF almost get punched in the face by a kid twice his age.

"Stay out of this, Shisui," Kiburi said, lowering into a fighting stance, feet planted, fists raised. "The trash doesn't know its place, so I'll teach it."

I couldn't stop my lips from curling into a smile. Quite an abrupt development of events, but I suppose children were just that easy.

Now, time to see if a cockroach can scream.

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[A/N] You mess with one Yamanaka, you mess with them all. 

The posting speed will decrease as I outline and write the upcoming chapters. 

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