Chapter 12 - The First Kill and the Awakening

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So, Mi Blade wandered over to the camp kitchen, guided by the irresistible force that was his growling stomach—a ninja on a mission for snacks.

As he rummaged through the supplies like a squirrel hoarding nuts for winter, he started daydreaming about the perks of being a top-tier ninja.

"How many battles do I have to win before I get my own personal chef?" he mused. "Maybe a ramen chef who specializes in ninja power-up broth! I could host the first-ever ninja cooking competition—Battle of the Ramen Masters!"

After an intense internal debate, he settled for a bag of chips and a suspicious-looking rice ball that may or may not have been from last week.

Just as he took a bite, he overheard Saki and Kamikawaki bickering nearby, clearly still wound up from today’s fight.

“I swear, if I see Yuren again, I’ll show him what a real ninja technique looks like!” Kamikawaki puffed up his chest like a rooster that just discovered mirrors.

“Yeah? Like what? A high-pitched battle cry?” Saki shot back, barely holding back her laughter. “You were practically dancing out there. Did you forget you’re a ninja and not auditioning for a talent show?”

“Hey! I’ll have you know my moves could distract even the fiercest enemy!” Kamikawaki replied, as serious as a ninja could be about impromptu dance-offs.

“More like they distracted you,” Saki said, now giggling. “That’s why you kept getting hit!”

Mi Blade couldn’t help but snicker along as he nibbled on his rice ball. “Looks like Kamikawaki’s got the moves, but definitely not the groove,” he thought. Best to keep his head down though—no need to get dragged into a ninja food fight, especially when he wasn’t done snacking.

Once he polished off his chips and questionable rice ball, Mi Blade felt a little more energized. He made his way back to his tent, plopping down on his bedroll with a satisfied sigh. The day’s events swirled in his mind.

If there was one lesson he’d learned, it was that being a ninja wasn’t just about flashy moves or even secret techniques. No, it was about the bond between teammates—and, let’s be honest, the power of a well-timed snack.

As he drifted off to sleep, he started daydreaming about tomorrow. Maybe he’d finally unlock the full potential of his Sharingan in a surprise training session. Or maybe he’d get to witness a ramen cook-off where the chefs battled for his culinary favor. Either way, sleep called to him like a warm ninja cloak, and Mi Blade let himself be pulled into dreams filled with epic battles, ridiculous training montages, and, naturally, endless bowls of ramen.

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Mission, mission, mission! This one felt like it lasted longer than a ninja's laundry day—so long that Mi Blade was starting to suspect his socks were plotting against him.

Finally, though, the mission that dragged on like a bad filler arc was over. Sure, there was still some sneaky enemy lurking around the Land of Fire, but at least Mi Blade’s team could head back to Konoha and chill out, ninja-style—minus the sunscreen and the beach towels.

In the past year, Mi Blade hadn’t crossed paths with Kakashi even once. Of course, they’d heard about each other, thanks to the village grapevine, which was juicier than a nosy neighbor at a tea party.

Both of them had been stuck cleaning up the ninja chaos on the border of the Fire Country, like a couple of janitors with headbands—sweeping up shuriken and dodging explosive tags like it was just another day at the office.

Despite not meeting face-to-face, Mi Blade and Kakashi had become the talk of the frontlines. And why not? Mi Blade was out there at the ripe old age of five—yes, five—taking out enemy ninjas like he was practicing for some kind of elite toddler tournament.

A one-kid wrecking crew, he was like a whirlwind of shuriken, kunai, and pure, unchecked chaos. People were calling him a prodigy, a dazzling shooting star... except with more explosions and fewer people wishing for peace.

Over the last year, Mi Blade had been through more battles than he could count—and, to be honest, even if he had more fingers, it wouldn’t have been enough.

His strength had shot up faster than a ninja’s chakra after spotting their crush across the training field. With the frontline buzzing about his rapid rise, he’d become a legend in his own right.

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After some hardcore negotiations, most of the big ninja villages finally decided to play nice. But, of course, the borders? They were now guarded tighter than a ramen shop during lunchtime.

Every guard was more protective than a parent chaperoning a middle school dance, just waiting for one of the countries to throw a tantrum and tear up the peace treaty like it was yesterday's homework.

Ah, the life of a ninja—no rest for the wicked, and definitely no rest for the five-year-olds!

"I can’t wait to get back to the village! I miss the three-colored rice balls!" Saki sighed, dramatically staring into the distance as if those rice balls were lost treasures from a forgotten land.

And honestly, who could blame him? In a ninja’s life, rice balls were as important as kunai—essential for survival.

"Hey, isn’t there a girl you like, Saki? You’re almost thirty, right?" Mi Blade teased, his voice dripping with the kind of mock innocence that only a five-year-old genius ninja could pull off.

"I’m not thirty yet!" Saki shot back, sounding a little too defensive, like someone trying to convince themselves more than anyone else.

"Whatever you say, old man!" Mi Blade smirked, pretending to draw an invisible blade in the air, because in the world of ninja, even mock swordplay was taken seriously. Very seriously.

"A genius like Saki should be swimming in attention from the ladies, right?" Kamikawaki added, casting a quick glance at Uchiha Yu, who was in her own world, probably thinking deep ninja thoughts like "how can I ignore these guys even harder?"

Kamikawaki had been crushing on Yu forever. It was like one of those tragic unrequited ninja romances—more dramatic than a ballad about lost shuriken.

The worst part? She never noticed him, kind of like how you don’t notice your socks don’t match until someone points it out—just pure heartbreak.

In Kamikawaki’s mind, his dream was simple: join the Uchiha clan, marry Yu, and let her do all the homework while he played with the kids. But the very thought of doing homework himself made him shudder. That was a nightmare too intense even for a ninja.

"Sister Yu, do you have any goals?" Mi Blade asked with the curiosity of someone expecting her to say something dramatic like "world domination" or "become the ultimate ramen chef."

"Increase strength!" Yu declared, her eyes gleaming with a fiery determination that could melt shuriken. She was one of the best ninjas her age, especially among the Chūnin, but one Gouyu wasn’t enough for her.

Nope, having just one Gouyu meant you were still stuck at the kids' table during the Uchiha family meetings—missing out on the real discussions about the most important thing: snacks.

"I’m going to sleep like a log when I get back!" Mi Blade declared, rubbing the dark circles under his eyes like they held the key to the universe—specifically, the secret formula for a decent nap.

"How can kids sleep that much?" Kamikawaki groaned, waving his arms as if performing an interpretive dance of despair. "The most important thing is increasing your strength, otherwise you’ll end up like me!" He sighed, dramatically channeling the world’s most tragic ninja haiku.

"If you don’t sleep, you won’t grow taller!" Mi Blade shot back, his eyes wide with horror as he imagined a future where he remained short and was teased for his height forever.

The thought made him shudder, picturing himself as some poor, yellow-haired ninja who had to endure short jokes like they were daily shuriken throws.

In the end, they all knew one thing: ninja life was wild, a little ridiculous, and often as unpredictable as trying to fit a whole bowl of ramen in your mouth at once without causing a noodle catastrophe.

Meanwhile, deep within the Hokage’s office, Sarutobi Hiruzen stared at two mission reports like a kid in a candy store, grinning from ear to ear. The documents were practically glowing, and he looked at them the way a chef admires a perfectly baked cake.

"Ah, what good kids these are! Sakumo, you’ve taught them well—the art of fire... and by fire, I mean the burning desire to complete missions while sneaking in naps!" Hiruzen chuckled, mentally patting himself on the back for raising such a pair of overachievers.

The reports belonged to none other than the infamous duo: Mi Blade and Kakashi, the Hatake brothers who had taken ninja mischief to new heights.

Kakashi’s file boasted a staggering list of accomplishments—five C-level, twenty-seven B-level, and twenty-one A-level missions. You could almost hear the mission scrolls singing his praises.

And then there was Mi Blade. At just six years old, the kid had completed three C-level, twenty-eight B-level, and a jaw-dropping twenty-eight A-level missions, all while saving his friends twice! Not bad for a kid who probably dreamed of rice balls more than he did about becoming Hokage.

"Not too shabby for a kid with a love of snacks," Sarutobi Hiruzen mused, wondering if greatness could be achieved on a steady diet of rice balls and power naps. Maybe Mi Blade needed a custom ninja unicycle to speed through all those missions!

C-level missions were basically ninja kindergarten—simple tasks like delivering messages or helping old ladies cross the street. The toughest challenge was dodging a rogue cat or two.

These missions were so easy, a ninja team could knock out a few in a day, all while stopping for snacks in between.

When it came to missions above B-level, things got serious—like, ninja serious. You couldn’t just roll in with half a plan and a pack of snacks. The enemies were tougher, the stakes higher, and you had to bring your A-game—quite literally.

With a 100% completion rate staring back at him, Sarutobi felt a surge of pride bubbling up. These kids were basically the pillars of Konoha’s future! But then, a devilish thought crossed his mind.

“What if... what if I promoted them both to Chūnin?” He stroked his beard, grinning like he just discovered the world’s best prank. “A six-year-old Chūnin? Can you imagine the chaos?”

He chuckled at the image—Mi Blade, barely out of his toddler years, strutting around Konoha with a shiny new Chūnin badge, barking orders like he was the Hokage himself. "I need snacks, stat!" Little ninja with big boss energy.

Oh, and the gossip? Sarutobi could already hear the nosy neighbors whispering over their fences, “What’s next, a toddler Hokage? At this rate, we’ll have babies running the academy!”

Tapping his fingers on the desk, Sarutobi weighed the idea like a seasoned gambler. "Eh, what’s the worst that could happen? If people are upset, they can always challenge them! A three-year-old versus a six-year-old? Now that’s entertainment!"

With a dramatic flourish, he signed the Chūnin promotion papers, smiling smugly to himself. “Let them grumble all they want—I’ve got more pressing matters.”

And by "pressing matters," he meant the legendary hot springs of Konoha. Because, somewhere out there, Jiraiya was on his way back to the village, and that meant trouble. His eye twitched just thinking about it. The women of Konoha deserved to soak in peace, without Jiraiya’s "research" creeping in.

Sarutobi grabbed his crystal ball and muttered under his breath, casting a protection spell over the hot springs. “I must protect the bathhouses at all costs! The future of our village’s relaxation depends on it!”

In his heart, Mi Blade knew exactly what he had to do: protect the women of Konoha from the imminent chaos about to be unleashed by their resident pervert, Jiraiya!

Nothing—absolutely nothing—would stop his determination, not even the daunting prospect of facing a man who could charm a squirrel out of a nut!