For the next four years, Yukika Setsu lived each day the same way.
He couldn't quite remember when it started, but at some point, he gradually cut down on chakra volume training and began focusing more on chakra shape and nature transformation.
Once it was determined that his chakra attributes were Wind and Lightning, two new ANBU members were assigned to teach him how to wield these elements.
It was said that Danzo also possessed Wind Release, which made Flame take Yukika even more seriously.
Yukika struggled significantly with learning ninjutsu. Perhaps due to his physical disability, his chakra was difficult to control, making it unstable. This also made him particularly bad at genjutsu, to the point where no matter how hard he tried or how it was taught, he simply couldn't grasp it.
But genjutsu was considered a minor art. Danzo didn't care, and neither did Flame. Eventually, his genjutsu training was canceled, and that time was reallocated to further ninjutsu practice.
After maybe a year or two, Yukika finally passed the test for throwing ninja tools. The white-haired ANBU who had been overseeing him then started teaching him taijutsu.
During this training, the white-haired jonin often sparred with Yukika, helping him improve through combat. He used a short blade with incredible skill. Even when holding back significantly, he could still defeat Yukika with ease.
Later, Yukika learned that this ANBU was known as White Fang.
The nickname really suited him.
Yukika never stopped training his physical endurance. Flame would constantly drag him on runs around the Hidden Leaf. At first, he couldn't keep up at all. Over time, though, he learned to push through the pain, mastering the use of his prosthetics until they felt like natural limbs.
Eventually, even Flame's traps couldn't catch him off guard. Occasionally, a new trick would slip through and surprise him, but they were rarely a threat anymore.
Every night, Yukika was taken to Orochimaru's lab, plunged into a sea of agony.
The blue liquid became darker and thicker—eventually resembling blue paint. The pain inside his body intensified, as if countless needles danced inside his muscles, piercing everywhere at once. But Yukika grew accustomed to it. Moving his limbs felt like being sliced by blades or burned by fire—but that became his normal.
And just like that, four years passed.
It was Year 41 of the Hidden Leaf calendar. Yukika turned six.
Though only six years old, four years of hellish training had matured him far beyond his age. His steady, composed demeanor didn't match his young face—most of the innocence was gone.
Today, no one came to wake him up early in the morning.
He naturally woke up on the operating table, glanced around, and saw no one. Silently, he got dressed, attached his prosthetics with practiced ease, grabbed his cane, and walked out of the lab on his own.
The sun was high—it must've been past noon. After pausing at the entrance of the lab, he instinctively walked toward the forest outside the village.
The place was familiar. So was the person.
Flame leaned against a tree, waiting for Yukika.
He held a tachi in his arms. When he saw Yukika step out from the trees, he adjusted his glasses and stood up. The two met in a wide, open clearing.
"Four years—today, exactly," Flame said with a cheerful smile. "I still remember what you were like at the beginning. You've changed a lot."
Yukika remained silent. He reached up and touched the area beneath his hair—where one of his eyes was missing, replaced with a hard, cold prosthetic. After a long pause, he looked up at the sky.
"...Four years... has it really been that long?"
His voice was hoarse, filled with a weariness far beyond his age.
Only four years had passed, yet it felt like decades.
His gaze was empty. The suffering he had endured over these four years outweighed the sum of pain from over twenty years in his past life. There were times when he considered ending it all, but each time, he chose to hold on.
He had chosen to submit to Danzo to survive. Now, having submitted, to give up would be an insult to his own stubbornness. That stubbornness kept him going.
Until today.
His clothes were ragged and disheveled. Barefoot, he stood on the prickly grass, his expression calm. He raised one hand toward Flame. The prosthetic limb was covered in artificial skin—it looked just like a real hand.
Flame had already drawn his blade at some point.
"You're even better than I expected. I thought you wouldn't survive this level of training. But somehow, you didn't miss a single day—you endured all four years."
"You've become skilled in real combat too. I have to block with kunai now, or you might actually cut me."
Flame swung his tachi. The blade sliced through the air with a sharp, cracking sound.
"You've worked hard for four years. The least I can do is draw my blade to show you proper respect."
Yukika still said nothing. He slowly drew a thin blade from within his cane. Flame, used to Yukika's silence by now, gripped his sword with both hands.
"Then—"
In the next instant, Flame's eyes sharpened—and Yukika vanished.
"Let's go all out, kid!"
Clang!
Cane blade clashed with tachi, bursting into a shower of sparks that landed on Flame's cheek!
Their faces were inches apart—Flame's excited grin clashed with Yukika's cold expression. Their eyes met over the gleaming steel of their blades.
...
Kakashi Hatake rolled his eyes at the loudmouth next to him—Obito—who was bragging about his bloodline trait again.
Unlike the gentle Rin, Obito was always making a scene. Kakashi just found him noisy.
It had been over a week since they enrolled. Kakashi had long discarded his idealistic image of the Ninja Academy.
In his imagination, the Academy was full of children who already carried the aura of real ninja—ruthless, competitive, training hard, pushing their limits, enduring pain.
But reality was disappointing.
No one in the class was worth his attention. Forget Obito, even the other Uchiha kid and his rival from the Hyuga clan didn't impress him.
There was this Might Guy who had recently latched onto him with enthusiasm—he had spirit, sure, but... fighting ability? Not worth mentioning.
And what were the teachers teaching? History? Math? Ugh…
He'd be better off training with his dad.
Kakashi sighed. At that moment, their homeroom teacher, Ryosuke Jōgiku, entered the classroom.
The noisy room fell silent. Everyone returned to their seats. Kakashi sat up straighter, despite his disinterest in the non-combat lessons. He still respected this chunin-level instructor.
"Ahem…" Ryosuke, with his blue hair, stood at the podium and set down his lesson plan. But instead of starting the lecture, he adjusted his glasses.
"Today, we're welcoming a new student to our class. He's a war orphan, so I hope you'll all be kind to him."
...A transfer student?
Kakashi raised an eyebrow. The Academy did transfers?
His curiosity was piqued.
Clank... clank... Mechanical grinding echoed from the hallway, making everyone wince. Then, under everyone's gaze, a masked man pushed a wheelchair into the room. In it sat a black-haired boy.
"Is he... disabled?" "What's with his legs...?" "What happened to him?" Whispered discussions rippled through the classroom—most focused on the wheelchair.
Only Kakashi's eyes locked on the masked escort.
That mask... ANBU?
"Ahem." Ryosuke cleared his throat again, and the room quieted down.
"Alright, let's have our new classmate introduce himself."
Yukika slowly rose from the wheelchair, retrieved a cane from its side, and walked to the podium.
He lifted his head and glanced over the classroom full of children.
"Setsu Yukika. Pleased to meet you all."