Reborn as a Yamanaka Genius

Sometime after Satoshi's ass-whoopin'  

I awoke with a slight headache and a cottonmouth.

My back rested against something soft—a bed—and a blanket draped over me.

I kept my eyes shut, my breathing steady, and let my senses expand outward.

The air was still, signaling an enclosed room, and it wrapped around the contours of a bed, a lamp, a nightstand, and a cabinet—a bedroom, but definitely not mine.

It was quiet.

No voices, no movement.

Alone.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. Sunlight filtered through a window behind me, brightening an unfamiliar bedroom.

It was brighter than earlier, which meant time had passed since… whatever that was.

I didn't move right away. Instead, I ran chakra through my body, toes to head, checking my damage.

No broken bones. No internal bleeding—not anymore, at least.

Someone healed me, or it was my body's abnormal healing factor that kicked in. Regardless, I was grateful.

Daiki's hit came back to me in flashes.

First, to my kidney. Then, to my ribs—I remember hearing a couple of cracks. And finally, my sternum.

I was sure I'd broken at least two ribs, but the only trace left was the headache, which felt more like dehydration than trauma.

Turning my head slightly, I saw a glass of water on the nightstand to my right. Convenient. I turned my head back to stare at the ceiling.

For all I knew, that was another one of Daiki's "lessons."

And speaking of Daiki—

"You "beat" Inoichi, who, by the way, was going easy on you." He'd said.

I knew that already. That wasn't news. No matter what it was, even hide and seek, Dad always went easy on me.

"Fucked with the mind of an Uchiha, who now passes out at the sight of you." Which was honestly a surprise. I didn't expect to be placed in the same class as him.

"Skipped a couple of grades, then played around against a Hyuga, and now you think you're hot shit."

I didn't tell anyone about the spar I had at school, which meant someone reported to them.

"What was your plan with the Uchiha, huh?—whatever the fuck his name is. What? Teach him a lesson? Show him how strong you are?" He asked.

Yes.

I wanted to teach him a lesson. Never mess with my clan. To stay in his place. But then his next words stilled me.

 "You think people wouldn't find out you did something to his mind? That there wouldn't be any repercussions? What the fuck were you thinking? If you're gonna do something like that, at least try to be fucking discrete about it!"

I saw how the instructor panned from Kiburi to me when he passed out. I knew he probably wrote a report about it. And yet… I was okay with it.

Why?

Because I thought I was safe. My position protected me. Any backlash I'd face could be justified as self-defense. And to be frank, repercussions weren't exactly at the forefront of my mind then.

I suppose I was wrong to think that.

Daiki made his point loud and clear: he wasn't necessarily condemning what I did—he was condemning that I wasn't discreet about it. Not exactly the most morally upright lesson for a five-year-old.

But I wasn't five. Mentally, I was an adult.

I exhaled and ran my hand through my matted curls.

An adult, I reminded myself bitterly, who had mentally scarred a child—and was fine with it.

Did he deserve it? No. Not to that extent.

It had been just a genjutsu, but that didn't make it any better. I broke his ribs, sliced through both of his Achilles. I killed him.

And I made it so real.

He would've felt everything.

The sharp, searing pain as his tendons tore. The metallic tang of blood pooling in his mouth. The slow horror as the blade sliced through his neck.

Another exhale escaped me, long and heavy.

I'd gotten too comfortable. Too comfortable with my growth, too content in knowing what I could do—what I would eventually be capable of.

Who I would become.

Daiki showed me that I could be countered easily. That it was so easy, and I wouldn't even know how it happened.

Fuck.

The mind is a dangerous monster, and I had fallen into its trap.

Daiki was right. I'd gotten complacent.

Two voices broke into my thoughts. Focusing chakra to my ears, I listened.

"…still the same as I remember," a female voice said.

The faint sound of a door closing followed.

"Surprised you still remember little old me," came a dry, sarcastic response. Akira-sama. "This is the first time you've visited me in twenty years. Do you know how sad I've been?"

"You, sad?" The other voice said. "Right."

[Stop acting asleep and get down here to greet your guest. And send a clone to school—it starts in ten minutes.]

I jolted beneath the blanket at the mental intrusion, but quickly collected myself. 

Akira was the best sensor in the clan—at least, that's what Dad said—so naturally, being able to sense when I was awake was as easy as breathing for her.

Pulling the blanket aside, I got up. The shorts and T-shirt I wore differed slightly from the training gear I remember wearing earlier.

I looked around for my old clothes, which were situated neatly on top of the nightstand. I walked over, reached into the grass-stained sleeve, and pulled out a miniature storage scroll.

Infusing chakra into it, a new set of clothes fell into my hand.

Akira's voice chimed again. [Chop chop—your guest is a busy woman.]

I peeled off my current clothes before performing Cleanse, a simple E-rank jutsu that whisked away the sweat, blood, and grime clinging to my skin.

Freshly dressed, I created a shadow clone. After a quick inspection, the clone nodded, opened the window, and leaped out, darting toward school.

I stepped into the hall and descended the stairs. As I approached, the voices grew clearer.

"Remember that time when you jumped out the window and broke your leg? Why would you even do that?" Akira-sama asked.

"I remember grandmother asked you to watch me." The voice responded dryly. "What were you even—"

My appearance at the foot of the steps interrupted their conversation. I bowed slightly, acknowledging the guest.

"Greetings, Lady Tsunade."

Her assessing eyes scanned me from head to toe, her ruby-red nails flicking upward in a subtle signal for me to stand.

"A shinobi with chakra exhaustion collapses mid-mission," she began, tone critical. "What is the first step in treatment?"

My confused gaze panned from Tsunade to Akira, then back to Tsunade.

Of all things, I hadn't expected one of the legendary Sannin to one, be here, and two, ask me an impromptu medical question after I had just woken from a child abuse session.

"I'm… sorry?"

"Do you not know the answer?" she asked.

Akira, seated nearby, crossed her legs and rested an elbow on the arm of the chair.

[Go ahead. Show her what you know.] She transmitted.

I obliged.

Straightening, I said, "Assess their vital signs and administer water infused with electrolytes to stabilize hydration. Then, restore minor chakra flow using a direct infusion if I have reserves and am skilled enough to do so."

Over the past year, Akira had me learn from hundreds of medical textbooks. I had countless medical texts, history, data, techniques, et cetera stored in my mind palace for use at any moment's notice.

Tsunade raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Instead, she continued with her questions.

"A kunoichi breaks her wrist mid-combat," she said. "How do you immobilize it in the field?"

"I'd use a splint fashioned from nearby rigid materials—wood or kunai sheaths—and secure it with bandages or cloth. Then keep it elevated to reduce swelling."

"What herbs do you use to stop minor external bleeding?"

"Crushed Eishin leaves—they work as a clotting agent."

Her brow arched. "And for internal bleeding?"

"Stabilize the patient with chakra compression at the injury site, then administer a liquid extract of Hinso root to prevent clot breakdown." I said.

"A shinobi suffers a deep laceration from a kunai. What's the first thing you do?" she asked, finger drumming on her armrest. 

"Apply direct pressure to stop the bleeding, then clean the wound with antiseptic or the Cleanse jutsu to prevent infection."

"You know how to use Cleanse?"

I nodded. "Yes, Lady Tsunade."

She hummed, but the questions kept coming. "A genin accidentally ingest poisonous wild mushrooms. What's your immediate action?"

"Induce vomiting if within an hour, then administer activated charcoal and prepare an antidote with Kiri spores."

"How do you detect internal organ damage without diagnostic jutsu?"

"Check for abnormal swelling, tenderness, bruising, or rigidity in the abdomen."

Her gaze sharpened. "What's the precise method to counteract the effects of a Rengoku leaf overdose in an adult shinobi weighing 65 kilograms?"

I paused. I'd read this before, but applying it to the scenario took a moment.

Closing my eyes, I sifted through my mind palace, mentally flipping through memories of text until I found it.

After another second to contextualize, I opened my eyes and responded.

"Administer 200 milliliters of distilled water with 0.8 grams of powdered Jeori root dissolved. Then follow up with an activated charcoal tablet to absorb residual toxins within 20 minutes."

"And if the patient is a child?"

I blinked, then answered. "I'd reduce the Jeori root to 0.3 grams and the water to 100 milliliters while ensuring the charcoal dosage matches weight at 0.5 grams per kilogram."

Tsunade's eyes slid toward Akira, who smiled faintly but said nothing. She looked back at me, a flicker of something appeared as fast as it vanished.

"You're in the middle of a battlefield," she began. "Your teammate is bleeding out from a deep abdominal wound. Their pulse is weak, and chakra exhaustion is setting in. The nearest fully equipped medic station is over an hour away. What do you do?"

I locked her steady gaze, and without blinking, I said. "I'd immediately apply pressure to the wound with whatever sterile material I have to slow the bleeding. Then, I'd use chakra to create a temporary seal around the severed vessels. If I have access to blood-replenishing pills, I'd administer one to stabilize their condition."

Tsunade pressed. "And if their chakra network begins to collapse?"

"I'd anchor their chakra network by transferring small, controlled pulses of my own, prioritizing vital organs," I said. This scenario seemed quite familiar. "If they're still conscious, I'd guide their breathing to regulate chakra flow and keep their heart steady."

She shifted in her seat. "And if they're fading fast? You can feel their life slipping through your hands."

My voice remained steady. "Then I'd do everything in my power to hold them here. Talk to them. Keep them fighting to stay alive until help arrives. But if…" I paused. "If it becomes clear I can't save them, I'd make sure their final moments were peaceful. I'd let him know he wasn't alone."

Her eyes flickered at my "accidental" pronoun change, but she quickly gathered herself and leaned back in her chair.

"One last question," she said. "Akira says you're a good cook. Is that true?"

I blinked, already seeing where this was going.

"I'm decent," I replied.

Her lips curved into a smile—warm and disarmingly beautiful, her teeth pristine and white.

"I had a meeting with a senile old man, but since I'm hungry, I suppose I can stay a little longer. Care to make me some breakfast?"

I returned her smile with a genuine one of my own.

"I don't mind at all, Lady Tsunade."

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[A/N] Hey guys, I am reaching out to see if anyone is interested in being a beta reader for this story. I think it would be great to have a second or third set of eyes to help provide feedback and highlight areas that might be confusing, unclear, or need improvement regarding plot, character development, pacing, and overall flow. 

Please leave a comment if that would be something any of you would be interested in doing. 

Thanks!