"I see… it's because I was too arrogant, Mizuki-sensei," Sakura said with a sheepish expression, lowering her head.
"No," Mizuki replied calmly. "It's not your fault. I just didn't make things clear enough."
Sakura's sharp mind and impressive learning ability had often masked the truth—she was still just a twelve-year-old girl. Despite her intellect, she lacked the field experience necessary to accurately gauge her own strength or that of others. Mizuki realized he had failed to provide her with proper direction. He had given her knowledge and techniques, but no compass to guide her path.
"No ninja becomes strong by depending entirely on others. You have to find your own way forward," he explained. "What I teach you is meant to broaden your perspective—so you have more options in the future."
"I understand what you're saying, Mizuki-sensei," Sakura said quietly, then looked up. "But still… why don't you just choose a specialty for me? With your ability, I know you could pick a path that suits me best."
Mizuki chuckled lightly and nodded.
"You're right. A teacher should have some insight," he admitted. "But being a ninja isn't just about technique. It's also about your values and desires."
"Like what?" Sakura asked, puzzled.
"No two people are the same. Naruto seeks acknowledgment and wants to become Hokage. Sasuke craves power—enough to overshadow everything else in his life. So, what is it that you truly want?"
Before she could answer, Mizuki continued.
"I'll be honest with you. Your talent for genjutsu and medical ninjutsu is excellent—better than mine ever was. If you continue down that path, you should seek out a teacher better suited to that field. Someone like Tsunade, for example."
"Sealing techniques and barrier enchantments," he added, "combined with your strong tactical sense, could become a core strength. But your ninjutsu aptitude is average, and your chakra reserves are limited. Even though I've taught you the breath-holding technique, it's ultimately just a support skill. It improves chakra control and endurance but doesn't increase raw power."
He hesitated a beat.
"As for your taijutsu… unless something drastic changes, I'd suggest you don't rely on it too much. It just doesn't suit your current build or instinct."
Mizuki wasn't exaggerating. Despite teaching Sakura various tricks to compensate for her close-combat weaknesses, the difference in raw foundation was hard to bridge. Even with clever techniques and chakra efficiency, she couldn't mimic a ninja like Kakashi who could replicate techniques with ease. Trying to copy that model would eventually lead to diminishing returns. Standard ninja tactics wouldn't be sustainable for her in the long run.
Sakura lowered her head, silently absorbing his evaluation.
"Not happy with that?" Mizuki asked, not unkindly. "But think about it—ninja talent doesn't always align with personal dreams. Take Rock Lee, for instance. Do you think he chose to specialize in taijutsu? He had to, because he couldn't use ninjutsu or genjutsu at all."
Haruno Sakura, outwardly delicate, wasn't weak on the inside. Beneath her reserved demeanor, there was a fire—a violent streak of stubbornness and pride. Completely abandoning direct combat might not align with that inner self. Perhaps that was why Tsunade, with her balance of force and finesse, was the ideal future mentor.
Mizuki understood his current role: a temporary guide. Someone who could prepare Sakura to walk her own path until a true master appeared. He only hoped that, when the time came, she wouldn't ignore the talents she had or close herself off to other possibilities.
The final day of the month-long training had arrived. After weeks of effort, Sakura had finally reached a point where she could reflect seriously on her growth.
"I originally planned to give you a final test," Mizuki said, hands in his pockets, "but forget it. It's not necessary."
After all, the real battle was tomorrow. The results of all her training would be revealed in the second phase of the Chūnin Exams.
"Just one last piece of advice—don't underestimate Dosu. He's more than just sound-based attacks. But if you play to your strengths, you've got a real shot at victory."
"Thank you, Mizuki-sensei. I really appreciate everything you've done this month." Sakura bowed respectfully.
With Ino leaving as well, the month of volunteer training came to an end.
"You've got half a day left—go rest. Tomorrow, everything changes."
The world of the ninja was about to grow chaotic. The peace of the village would soon be shattered. Orochimaru was already preparing his assault on Konoha. What had once been background tensions would soon erupt into open warfare.
Looking back on the past month, Mizuki realized that this teaching period had also been a form of self-reflection. In many ways, his current situation wasn't so different from Sakura's. She would eventually be mentored by one of the Sannin. He, on the other hand, could only stumble forward alone. The path was there—but he lacked the time and resources to walk it properly.
What weighed most on his mind was the breath-holding technique he had taught Sakura.
Unlike the Yin Seal, which stores chakra directly and releases it in bursts—often at great strain to the body—the breath-holding technique operated differently. It refined chakra not by draining the user's reserves, but by reabsorbing scattered energy from the body and spirit, recycling it into usable chakra.
It was a subtle, regenerative process. Not as flashy as the Yin Seal, but more sustainable.
More importantly, the chakra wasn't sealed in a fixed point like the forehead. Instead, it was stored across the entire body at the cellular level. As the user's control improved, the chakra capacity would grow. This made it not only ideal for high-level sealing and genjutsu but also an invaluable foundation for entering Sage Mode—should she ever reach that level.
The technique even had theoretical resistance to the Hyūga clan's chakra-point strikes, due to its diffuse storage system.
Training Sakura in it had been a gamble—a test to see how well someone else could wield this carefully honed technique. And perhaps… if all went well, she might one day be able to use it better than he ever could.
With that, Mizuki had fulfilled his assignment from Kakashi. Now it was time to prepare for the upcoming chaos.
He wasn't a front-line fighter—his involvement in the Land of Waves had been circumstantial. That was nothing compared to what was coming: super-powered shinobi, giant summons, large-scale ambushes, and unpredictable duels.
Though Mizuki hadn't altered the grand arc of the original story, the details had shifted. And sometimes, enough small changes can trigger something new—something unexpected.
Tomorrow would tell.